


Friends and Families

by walterscott



Category: North and South - Elizabeth Gaskell | UK TV
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 10:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 111,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19004392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walterscott/pseuds/walterscott
Summary: Margaret Hale is a very young woman who has spent her life isolated from all except her parents, until a tragic accident changes her life completely. John Thornton is a caring brother and son who has been disappointed in love, but is becoming successful in his career. Can a painfully shy, completely clueless young woman find her way in this world? Will she have help?





	1. A Friend

Margaret could hear voices, but didn’t know who was speaking. She knew the lights were on, but couldn’t open her eyes. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t open them, she just knew she couldn’t, so she didn’t even try. She felt surrounded by machines, quiet machines, noisy machines, doing unknown jobs that needed to be done. She knew she was lying down and tried to move, but it felt as if she were being held down somehow.

Where am I? Just then, she heard a loudspeaker asking Dr Wash-something to call extension 4884. A hospital? What happened? Am I hurt? Margaret tried moving again and heard the voices again, sounding excited. “She moved, I know she did. She’s waking up, Dad. I’ll get the nurse.” She heard someone walking away in a hurry, then felt a hand touch her right arm very lightly, and she thought she heard her name whispered by a man’s voice. That’s not Father.

Margaret tried lifting her arms; only the right one moved easily, but there was something attached to it, she thought. The left one hurt and was really heavy, weighted down somehow. Her hands and fingers seemed to be all right, she could feel them moving. She did the same with her legs, and again, found the right one moveable. The left leg didn’t move at all and she felt a dull and painful throb in her thigh. She tried raising her head - uh, oh, don’t try that again - pain, dizziness - oohh nausea. She started to breathe more rapidly, fighting the feeling of being sick.

She heard someone walk in and move from one side of the bed to the other, pausing, moving, pausing. Checking machines? My machines? A woman’s voice said, “The doctor has been notified and will be here in a few minutes. Margaret, I can see you are waking up now. That’s good. I’m going to take the tape off your eyes, so just lie still for a moment and keep your eyes shut. This won’t hurt. Okay, now, try to open your eyes for me. That’s a good girl.”

Margaret opened her eyes and then closed them quickly. Way too bright. She opened them again just the smallest amount, trying to get used to the light. Everything was a bit blurry at first, especially her left eye, which hurt so much! She concentrated and tried to focus with her eyes open just enough to see a little of the room. Moving her head fast was definitely not an option, but by moving her head very slowly on the pillow, she could look around the room. She could see four people in the room around her bed - two women, nurses?, an older man and a younger man, maybe her age. She didn’t recognize any of them. Where are Mother and Father?

She opened her mouth to speak and realized her mouth was very dry. “Water … please?” One of the nurses lifted a cup with a straw in it to her mouth and she sipped the cool liquid. “Thank you.” Margaret barely recognized her own voice, it sounded raspy. She opened her eyes more, getting used to the light in the room. No one else spoke, she could see everyone just staring at her in anticipation.

“Where are my parents? What’s happened to me?” she whispered. She felt tears prick at her eyelids, but just gulped and blinked. She wouldn’t cry, Father would never forgive her.

A doctor came in and the other two men left the room. Dr Watson introduced himself and then spent almost ten minutes poking and prodding, asking questions about each poke and each prod, how her head felt, any pains anywhere, vision, arms, legs. Margaret saw she had casts on her left arm and her left leg, and she could see bandages on her arms and hands, and felt the doctor examining more bandages on her face and head. After he was through, he smiled and said, “Okay, Ms Hale, your turn to ask questions.”

Margaret was almost afraid to say anything, but knew she had to ask. “Dr Watson, where are my parents, and what am I doing here?”

Dr Watson turned to look at the nurses, and Margaret saw them both shake their heads no. Dr Watson took a deep breath. “Ms Hale, you were in a very bad car accident almost a week ago. You’ve been unconscious since you were brought into the emergency room with extensive injuries - a compound fracture of the left femur, simple fracture of the left humerus, as well as a depressed skull fracture, an injury to your left eye, and many lacerations and contusions. Fortunately you didn’t have any serious internal injuries. You were in surgery quite some time to fix your fractures. You’re going to be with us for a while, then with lots of rest and the right physical therapy, I think you will regain all of your motor functions and mobility.” He stopped talking and looked inquiringly at Margaret again. “Do you understand what I’ve said? Do you have any questions about your injuries?”

“Yes, I understand, Dr Watson, thank you, but you didn’t tell me about my parents. Are they all right? I don’t understand why they aren’t here.” Margaret was looking very intently at him, trying to understand why he hadn’t answered the most important question she had asked. She watched as Dr Watson walked out of the room and began talking to the older man who had been waiting in the hallway. He looked about the same age as her father, although he was a bit heavier. He had greying hair, wore glasses, and had a kindly look to his face, but he looked very sad. The doctor and the man looked at her as they talked, then they both returned to the room and stood on either side of the bed.

“Margaret,” the older man started speaking softly, “I know you don’t know me. My name is Adam Bell. I was a very good friend of your mother’s many years ago. I am so sorry, Margaret, but … your mother and your father were killed in the accident.” He stopped and looked for Margaret’s reaction. What colour she had drained from her face and her eyes opened very wide, but she didn’t say anything. “I’m so sorry, Margaret,” he said again.

That day came back to Margaret in a flash. They had driven to Lancaster to have dinner in a restaurant. Margaret could remember such a treat only three times before in her whole eighteen years, so she knew this was a very special day, though her parents hadn’t told her why. Her mother had just told her to put on her best dress. Well, she had only two dresses, so that was easy enough. Going out was a huge event for her. She knew she had to be on her best behaviour, asking none of her impertinent questions, as her father called them, or he might call the whole thing off in an instant and turn around and drive home.

Margaret had never lived the life of a typical child or teenager. She had been home schooled by her mother her entire life. She’d never had classmates, never had a sleep over with other girls her age, never had a best friend to whisper secrets to. Her father had refused to socialize in any way with neighbors, and she couldn’t remember ever having any guests in their home. There was no other family, no aunts and uncles, no cousins. There had been one friend, so long ago, but he had disappeared. Her mother had told her the friend was a secret and no one else must know. But her father must have found out somehow, because there had been a terrible row and she never saw her friend again.

Margaret had been wrapped up in her books from the age of three. With no playmates and no pets allowed, she’d amused herself with imaginary friends, and characters from the books she was always reading. The family took car trips to national parks and every museum within a two day driving distance, always all three of them. Mother and Margaret couldn’t go on any trips by themselves, Father said it was unsafe. But he loved teaching Margaret things about nature, science, history, so there was always lots to talk about, just never with anyone her own age. Her parents loved her, she was sure of that, but it was hard being so alone … 

She was surprised when they got to the restaurant that day to find that there was another family that they were to dine with, a man and woman and a young man. She guessed that the man had been in the army, he had a look similar to her father, very erect, trim even in middle age, very short hair, a no nonsense type. Of course, she didn’t sit next to the young man, but they were allowed to talk to each other about their studies. She was aware that all of the adults were watching them, and listening to everything they said. He had been home schooled too, along with his eight siblings. Margaret enjoyed the meal, but she was puzzled when dessert turned out to be a small cake with writing on it that said, ‘Jared and Margaret.’ She looked at her parents, who said nothing, just smiled at the other family. After dessert, they all walked outside and her father said, “Margaret, we think you are going to like Jared.” Margaret looked at her mother, who just smiled at her, and said nothing.

Now Margaret remembered the drive home that night on the highway, in a tremendous thunderstorm with very heavy rain, her father complaining that he couldn’t see properly. He refused to pull off the highway, even when passing trucks flooded the windshield so he couldn’t see at all. The last thing Margaret remembered until waking up in the hospital was her mother’s scream … 

Mr Bell and Dr Watson continued to watch Margaret, waiting for some reaction, some questions, some outburst - something. Her eyes were darting back and forth, as if she were trying to find some escape from this news, or a way out of the reality they were trying to force on her. But she said nothing. I can’t cry, Father would be very angry. But …….. he’s gone. And she’s gone. And there is no one now, no one at all. … What will happen to me? Margaret looked back at the two men staring at her, blinking back the threatening tears, then out of the corner of her eye, she saw the younger man in the hall, hesitantly edging his way back into the room. He was tall and slender, with brown hair and eyes, and a shy smile on his face.

“Margaret.” He had a beautiful voice, and Margaret wanted to smile when she heard it, but she was afraid she was going to cry instead, so she just swallowed and stared at him. “Margaret, I’m Fred. Do you remember me? When we were small, we used to play together in Milton Park in Lancaster. Do you remember? We used to meet one day every couple of weeks and play on the swings and the slides, you were seven and I was eight, and you used to push me onto the grass and throw yourself on me? We had pretend tea parties, and sometimes you pretended I was your dog and led me around on a rope.“ She saw a small smile on his face. “And we ate lunch with … your mother … near the pool.”

She did remember, he could see it in her eyes. Her eyes opened wide in wonder and a tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. My friend! And then the tears slid down her cheeks, one after the other, there was no stopping them now. She didn’t make a sound, but simply put her hand out to him as she cried. Fred sat next to the bed, holding her right hand, stroking her forehead, whispering soothing sounds as she drifted off.


	2. A New Family

Fred visited Margaret every day after that day she first woke up. They didn’t really talk the first three days. They just held hands and listened to music. Margaret was in a state of amazement at the music Fred had brought for her to listen to. She had never listened to rock music, the only radio in the house was under her father’s sole control, and he tuned in only to certain newscasts. She found herself giggling at some of the silly lyrics, but most of it she just didn’t understand. She didn’t particularly like the music he called hip hop or rap, so he didn’t bring any more of that. But she smiled in delight at a homemade cd of music that Fred blushingly said was that of his own band. He was so pleased she liked it.

Fred told her all about himself since they had seen each other last. He was in college now, just finished with his first year in economics at Mills University. Growing up, he had lived in faculty housing just off campus, because his father Adam was a professor of English literature in the college. He had lived in one of the dorms on campus his first year, for the experience he said, and really liked it, but hadn’t decided yet if he would live at home this year.

He told her he never had a mother when he was growing up. He had envied hers when they met to play, and had imagined that his own mother, whom he had never known, was just like Margaret’s. He remembered everything about their time together. Adam would drive him to the park and leave him at the water fountain and walk away. Then Margaret and her mother would come walking up the path and the two of them would play together and then have their packed lunches at the pool. It had lasted eight months and then one day, his father had told him that they wouldn’t be able to see Margaret again. And Fred told Margaret he had cried.

He was in a band now with his two best friends, Nick Higgins and Guy Sigborne. They were still “perfecting” their sound, which Fred told her meant they hadn’t had any paying jobs yet. But they were very hopeful for the coming Fall at pubs around campus, and he told Margaret she could be their groupie. He received a tiny smile from that little joke and felt a small triumph. The sadness surrounding Margaret was like a blanket, and he did what he could to lift it.

Fred decided not to tell her the most important thing, that would be Adam’s job. If she asked, he would tell her, but he didn’t want to upset her with information that would shock her, and perhaps, … . Would she be upset, distressed so much with the information, not want to see him again? He didn’t know, he couldn’t take that chance, now that they had found each other again. Adam should tell her.

Margaret was apprehensive the evening Adam came into the room and sat by her bed. Fred had told her Adam had things to tell her. Adam had visited her several times, but had been very quiet, just watching her with Fred. But Margaret was due to be discharged in four days, and he knew it was time to talk to her about the past, and what the future held for her.

“Margaret, did your mother ever talk to you about me, or about Fred?” He wasn’t sure he was starting the right way with his explanation. He had rehearsed this talk so many times in the past three weeks, but it never sounded right. He hoped he could take his cue from Margaret, that she would start to ask questions, that she would be able to understand why she hadn’t been told.

“No, I don’t ever remember Mother mentioning your name, Mr Bell. We did talk about Fred, but only once. I remember it because it sounded so exciting. I think I was seven years old. Mother told me I was going to have a friend, and we would be able to play together in the park. But she said it had to be a secret, and I couldn’t tell anyone, ever.” Adam saw a small smile on Margaret’s face. She seems so young, does she know anything of people, did she have any relationships except with her parents?

“Margaret, do you remember, when we first met in the hospital, I told you I was a friend of your mother? Well, I … ” He stopped and sighed. Good grief, how do I tell her this? Is she going to think I’m some kind of slimy character, someone who took advantage, tried to wreck a home, a marriage? Adam took a deep breath. “I knew your mother when your father was stationed overseas in the Middle East. Did you know your mother was notified by the Army that he had been killed over there?”

Margaret’s eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t say anything, just nodded yes. Margaret had been allowed two hours a day when she didn’t have to be studying or helping her mother around the house or in the gardens. One day two years earlier she told her mother she was going to organize the boxes of holiday decorations in the attic. She loved to look through those old boxes. The winter holidays were the only time of the year when the house looked cheerful. The house was always clean, always very tidy, ordered. Her father liked things just so, and her mother always wanted to please him, so everything had a place and was kept in it. 

But they indulged Margaret with holiday decorations ever since she was a toddler, her mother had insisted. She and her mother made almost all of the decorations themselves, and every year, Margaret and her father walked into the woods on the farm to find the perfect tree to bring into the house. Oh, they never went to church or bought presents or celebrated the holidays any other way, but they always had a tree scenting the house. It was one of Margaret’s favorite times of the year, and she liked to ‘organize’ the decorations at other times, just to see and touch them.

She had found an old box stuck in a niche behind the chimney. The box was full of old photos, newspaper clippings, and official looking papers. She started to read some of the old yellowing bits of paper and suddenly saw a photo of her father as a younger man, in a military uniform, smiling for the camera. The paper said he’d been killed. Margaret had nearly cried out when she read that, then settled down to read more. Her father had returned home three years later, and there were no more smiling photos after that. She found other papers, but didn’t understand their significance. She looked steadily at Mr Bell. He knows. “Please, tell me.”

Mr Bell swallowed and wet his lips. “Margaret, I met your mother a year after your father’s supposed death. She was working as a secretary in the English department at the college. We worked together, saw quite a bit of each other and we … fell in love.” He looked to see if Margaret was processing this information, and saw she was leaning forward in the bed, waiting for more information. “We wanted to get married, but no matter how persistent we were, we couldn’t seem to get all the right paperwork from the Army as to your father’s death, so we had to wait. Well, … we were in love, and … ” He stopped again, hesitating, and looked at Margaret. 

She stared for a moment, eyes wide, and suddenly said, “Oh! … Fred!”

He smiled and nodded yes. So, she does know about people, not quite as sheltered as I thought. Good.

“Fred’s my brother? I have a brother? Why didn’t she tell me? I have family? I’m not all alone?” And she started to cry, not knowing if it was sorrow for all the missed years, or anger at this being kept from her, or relief that she wasn’t alone, or joy at having a brother. 

Fred came back to the hospital the next day, and just stood in the doorway, uncertain how Margaret was feeling about this new turn in her life, whether she would welcome him, knowing about his father and him now. Margaret glanced to the doorway and saw him standing there and for the first time, Fred saw a huge smile on her face. He walked over to the bed and they hugged for a long time.

“Fred,” she started to talk, and then he saw tears in her eyes. “Fred, I’m so sorry you didn’t have Mother with you. That you had to grow up without her … ” and Margaret just cried. Margaret had cried more since she’d been in the hospital than she had in her first eighteen years. Her father had always said only babies cry, because they can’t talk and tell other people what was wrong. Once you were able to talk, he said, there was no reason to cry, ever. When Margaret had fallen off her bike when she was five and cried because her knee and elbow were bleeding and hurt, her father hadn’t spoken to her for two days. Margaret never cried again at home.

“Margaret, don’t cry for me. Yes, I missed our mother, but I never knew her, so in a way, I didn’t know what I was missing. And Grandmother Bell lived with us until she died when I was sixteen, so I did have a grandmother’s love, and a happy childhood.” Fred glanced at Margaret and wondered if he should have said that. Adam had described for him what he thought Margaret’s home life had been and Fred had been surprised and saddened. 

“Dad told me a story about … our … mother.” He smiled and shook his head. “It seems so strange saying that. Anyway, I think he thought that was the best thing for a small child, saying that she had to give me up although she really, really loved me. He told me everything when Grandmother died. That’s when I found out my best friend from the park was my sister and that my mother was alive, but we couldn’t see her. I was angry at first and wanted to go see her and you … . I think I wanted to confront her and ask how she could have abandoned me. But then I thought about something Grandmother had said to me that gave me some peace about it. She told me that sometimes people have to leave each other, but they never stop loving each other. That’s what happened when she died; she’s still with me in my heart and mind. And so is our mother,” he added quietly.

They looked at each other, and both sighed at the same time. They smiled, then hugged each other. Margaret felt almost at peace in Fred’s arms, even though she had known him such a short time now. He laughed so easily, and was so gentle with her, drawing her out of her shell slowly. She was so grateful that he and Adam had found her, she surely would have been lost without them.

***

Margaret shifted herself to the edge of the chair, and then Fred helped her slide over to the wheelchair. Adam had decided to hire an electric wheelchair for her after talking to her physical therapist. She needed the arm exercise a manual chair would have given her, except the cast on her arm was so cumbersome, she wouldn’t be able to push properly. And she wouldn’t need it for long, he hoped. She had only been in rehab for a week, she still had casts on leg and arm, and she needed time to build up her strength. 

Margaret had lost a lot of weight in hospital, a worrying amount. She hadn’t been able to move much, with the casts, and the skull fracture had caused such nausea at first that she never felt like moving, much less eating. The staff had not realized that Margaret wasn’t eating her meals. She had been hiding the food under the covers when the staff checked her tray, then pitching it in the bin just before the cleaning staff came in. 

She’d never been allowed any rebellions growing up, big or little, her parents made all of the decisions for her, down to which books she read, which clothes she wore, what she ate. And so she started her own decision making with that awful hospital food. By the time she was discharged, Margaret weighed just one hundred five pounds, twenty less than before the accident. Fred knew what she was doing, and worried, but he realized that making her own decision was very important to Margaret, so he said nothing, not even to his father. Adam was appalled at how thin she was, and angry with Fred for keeping Margaret’s secret. 

When Adam and Fred had asked her to come live with them, Margaret’s face had flooded with relief. She hadn’t wanted to go home to that empty house, with no friends, no neighbors she knew, no way to get out on her own. While she had loved her parents, she couldn’t imagine living in that house all by herself. And she had been frightened by the only other visitors she had while she was in hospital. They wanted to take her home too, but she knew she didn’t want to go with them. 

Jared and his parents had come in one afternoon shortly after Margaret had regained consciousness. When they saw she was just in a hospital gown, Jared and his father quickly left the room. His mother said how sorry they were about her family, but now that she was an orphan, they thought it best to carry out the plans the families had discussed. Margaret would come to live with them when she was discharged, and Jared would live at his cousin’s house until he and Margaret could be married. 

Margaret could barely breathe as Jared’s mother continued talking. She reached under the sheet and frantically pushed the call button. When the nurse came in, Margaret said she couldn’t breathe and the nurse ushered the visitor out right away. Once she was calm again, Margaret asked that no visitors except Fred and Adam be allowed, and Jared’s family could no longer see her.

Fred came into her room the day she was leaving the hospital, wheeling her wheelchair up to the bed. Margaret was wearing the new clothes that Adam and Fred had bought for her. They hadn’t wanted to go to her house without her, so Fred had sat with her two days earlier, asking her for the sizes she wore in everything. Margaret had blushed when he asked about underwear.

“Margaret, you’re going to have to get used to having a big brother. One who wants to know everything about his baby sister whom he hasn’t grown up with. But as far as underwear is concerned, maybe it would be easier if you told Uncle Adam about the clothes?” That was what Margaret had decided she wanted to call Fred’s father, and Adam was well pleased with it.

“Yes, please. Talking to a boy my own age is quite the novelty for me, talking to him about underwear, well …” Margaret blushed as she said that. “My father knew all those things, because he did the shopping for us when he went to town.” Margaret was still shy around Fred. It was so odd for her, suddenly having someone so close who was almost her own age, and her feelings were sometimes in turmoil, knowing her father and mother wouldn’t have permitted long chats and holding hands with anyone, and certainly not someone who was almost a stranger. 

But wouldn’t Mother have been happy, knowing Fred and I found each other? How sad for her to have to give him up. Fred saw the shadow cross Margaret’s face and knew she was thinking of her parents again. He squeezed her hand, and she looked up. “It’s okay, Fred, I’m all right,” she said, as she blinked back the tears.

Margaret was pushed out the door by Fred, and Adam was waiting beside the van. Fred lifted Margaret from her chair and sat her in the front seat, then stowed her chair in the back. The ride to Adam’s home was not too long and Margaret watched as they pulled into a driveway. My new home. Margaret saw the newly built ramp leading from the driveway to the front door of a large colonial style three story home, white with dark red shutters. It was well set back from the street, with several large trees providing shade. 

Margaret used the toggles to guide herself through the front door. She moved from the hallway to the lounge on the left, and viewed a room unlike any in her own home. The room was large and bright, lots of light coming from the windows. There was a leather sofa and armchair, another sofa in front of an entertainment corner with a large flat screen tv, and bookshelves lining every bit of wall space that wasn’t already taken up by windows. The shelves were crammed with books, photos, camera equipment, at least three chess sets, souvenirs from travels around the country. There were books on the sofa arm, on the tables, on the ottoman. Margaret smiled and thought of the pleasure she would get reading all of these new books.

The room opposite was the dining room, with a huge wooden table surrounded by ten chairs. Ten chairs? Think of having that many people in the house to eat with you! Behind that was the kitchen. More books, mostly cookery on the shelves, but three or four that must have just been carried in for reading while waiting for dinner. There was a large wooden table in the middle of the kitchen for preparation and for guests to sit and talk while Adam and Fred cooked. Unlike the kitchen at home, there were lots of things on the counters, small appliances, snack containers, water bottles, some utensils, and a computer.

“Margaret, would you like to check out your room? It’s next to mine on the second floor,” Fred said. “Adam hired a second chair for you, so you would be able to get around upstairs as well. Easier than putting in an elevator,” he said with a grin. They all hoped Margaret would need the chairs for just a short time.

Fred carried her up the stairs by himself and placed Margaret in the chair waiting on the landing. He opened a door and Margaret gasped. It was at least twice the size of her bedroom at home, but that wasn’t the surprising thing to her. It was so bright, so warm, so … inviting. There were beautiful curtains at the windows which were flooding the room with light, a colorful duvet on the bed, the walls were a creamy white, there was a small dressing table waiting for her to tell them what she wanted on it. Fred opened the door to her bathroom, gleaming and modern, with newly installed grab bars. Margaret sighed. This is beautiful, and so different from home. Do I really belong here, do I deserve this?

“Margaret, we are so happy to have you home with us,” Fred said, hugging her close.


	3. Remnants of a Life.

Margaret couldn’t quite sort out what she was feeling as they drove towards the house - fear, anxiety, sadness - all mixed together. She had lived here her entire life, and until a week ago, she would have described herself as happy here. But the past week at Uncle Adam’s house, everyday living was so different. Neighbors and friends dropped by to talk, the phone was always ringing, they went out to eat, people laughed a lot and enjoyed each other’s company - she wasn’t sure anymore how she felt. All these people seemed so … nice and kind and … why hadn’t her family had that kind of life? What was wrong with enjoying people, why had her family shunned what most people seemed to welcome - the friendship of others? Her father had thought it necessary - was it? Were people so dangerous? 

They had come here to get anything at all that Margaret wanted from her earlier life to have with her in her new life. The house was set so far off the road, it couldn’t be seen until you had entered the drive and driven quite a long way from the road. Fred saw a two story farmhouse, painted white, very plain looking, well maintained. The barn was the traditional red, also looking well maintained and freshly painted. 

The house had been empty now for about five weeks, and there was a faintly musty odor as they walked in the front door. Fred went to open a few windows and the back door. It was very dark in the house, the walls were all paneled rather than painted, and heavy curtains hung at the windows, keeping out the light. There was a film of dust on every surface, but other than that, the rooms looked immaculate - spare, but immaculate. There seemed to be nothing out of place, no books or videos lying around, not one thing on the kitchen counters, no clothes on the back of a chair, no mail on a table, almost as if the house were waiting for someone to make it a home. But it had been a home, Margaret’s home, and she smiled as they entered.

Adam thought to listen to messages on the answer phone, but there was no answer phone. There was no mailbox, they would have to go into town to check for any mail. They saw the computer in the kitchen, and thought they would have to check for any email messages before they left.

“Margaret, shall we start in your room? We have plenty of boxes in the car for your clothes and other things, so let’s go up and see what you want to take home with you.” Fred and Adam stood on each side of her, each slipped an arm under a shoulder and another under a leg and they carried her up the dark narrow stairs. Margaret directed them to her room and they walked in and sat her on her bed. She steadied herself with her arms, trying to balance the extra weight on her left side, and surveyed the room. Exactly as I left it.

Fred looked at Adam open mouthed, and then just turned away. This was unlike any teenage girl’s room he’d ever been in. It was dark, with panelling on the walls and a single overhead light. There was nothing on the walls, no pictures or posters of rock stars, athletes, movie stars, nothing. There was no television or radio, no computer or telephone, no stuffed animals, no photos, no makeup, no … . There was a twin bed covered by a chenille spread, a night stand with a reading lamp and clock, a small chest of drawers with a brush and comb, and a small rug on the floor. That was it, the bare minimum, except for a bookshelf with about ten books on it. Margaret sat on the bed, looking around with a small smile. “This is … was my room,” she said shyly, with a satisfied look on her face.

Adam opened the closet and found about a dozen hangers with clothes on them. “Margaret, do you have other clothes in a closet in another room, or in the attic, perhaps?”

“Oh, no, that’s everything right there, except for my winter coat and raincoat. They’re downstairs in the hall closet. With my boots. And of course, my other things are in the chest.” She glanced at Fred. “My underwear, pj’s, pants.” Margaret smiled. She knew it wasn’t much, but she hadn’t really needed much. She didn’t go to school, they never went to church, they didn’t socialize, so wearing the same shirt and pants every two or three days was fine. She really didn’t comprehend that some people could fill an entire closet, and more, with just their own clothes. She was sure she would never be able to fill up the large closet in her room in Uncle Adam’s house.

She saw the look on Adam’s face. “It’s okay, Uncle Adam, really, I know it isn’t much, but it’s okay. I’d better take all of it with me. I don’t want you to have to buy me new clothes.” 

Fred looked at his father. Margaret had told him she worried she would be a burden to Adam, that he took her in only because she was his son’s half-sister. Fred had told Adam what Margaret had said and Adam and Margaret had a long talk the night before.

“Margaret, I love you as my own daughter. I loved your mother, and … ” Adam drew a deep breath and sighed. “I’ve missed her all these years. We couldn’t keep in touch, I’m sure you understand that. When your father came home, Fred was just three months old. Your father was angry, well, furious really, not surprising, considering ... . I was afraid at first that he was going to hurt your mother. But the Army had deliberately misinformed her, and he knew that, so … . He refused to divorce her, he said he still loved her. She was his wife, she felt guilty, she went back to him.”

“But he wouldn’t let her keep Fred, and I think that broke her heart. I started sending photos of Fred to a friend of hers who lived in another town. I think she saw your mother every couple of months or so, and she passed on the photos. I didn’t write, because … . Well, I knew your father had withdrawn from contact with most people, and I was afraid for your mother if he found out I wrote to her.”

Margaret interrupted. “Uncle Adam, please believe me, my father never hit me or my mother. Ever! He wasn’t like that at all. He was very strict, but he said it was for our own good, that people could do awful things to each other and he didn’t want anyone to hurt us. Something terrible happened to him in the Army, but he never spoke about it, at least not to me. But you mustn’t think he was mean to me or Mother. He wasn’t, he loved us both.”

“Thank you for telling me that Margaret. I wish I had known that before.” Adam sat for a while, just staring at the wall, then sighed. “I never stopped loving her,“ he said very quietly, and then he looked at Margaret again. “I knew about you because she sent a single picture, when you were born. Then when you were seven years old, I got a phone call from that friend, saying you and your mother would be at Milton Park at 10:00 on a Thursday. I took Fred and went, and we saw you. You played together for two hours, and then you left. Your mother and I never spoke all those months you and Fred played together. I never knew why she decided to do that, why she contacted me after all those years, and I couldn’t ask. I knew it would end one day, and I didn’t want it to be worse for your mother when it did. I didn’t want her to have to admit talking to me behind his back.”

“I love you, Margaret, yes, at first it was because of who your mother was, but now that I know you, it’s because of who you are. I want you to live with us for as long as you want. You are not, and will never be, a burden. You are a daughter and a sister, and we both love you.” Adam had tears in his eyes when he finished, and Margaret threw her one good arm around his shoulder and buried her face in his chest. I do have a home, and a family.

Now it was time to put the past in the past. Fred and Adam packed all of the clothes from the closet and dresser, and it didn’t fill even that one box. “Margaret, do you want these books?”

“No, they’re really children’s books that I just kept. Father decided we didn’t have to buy books once the library system expanded to include all the libraries in the county. I usually borrowed about ten books a week by requesting them by computer.”

Fred and Adam had both been surprised when Margaret had asked shyly if she could use the computer she saw in the kitchen of Adam’s house. They had just assumed that Margaret was unfamiliar with computers, but she sat right down and opened the internet browser and started exploring news sites. “I’ve been out of touch for so long in the hospital,” she said. It seemed Margaret was well in touch with the world, remotely of course, but in touch. She had done a lot of research for study projects on the internet, and Adam was pleased, as he hoped to talk to her soon about continuing her education.

They brought just two boxes home from Margaret’s past. Her clothes were in one, and the other had some handwork of her mother’s. There was no jewelry or photos, no scrapbooks, no ‘family’ heirlooms or mementos. Fred and Adam felt sad for Margaret, and she saw their looks. “Don’t, please don’t be sad. My parents loved me, they just … were different … in the way they decided to live.”

“I had a lovely time here as a child, yes, I was lonely, but I … .” Margaret smiled, looking around the living room of the house, then spoke very quietly. “Father taught me so many things, but he also … . I remember we had tea parties when I was little, Father in a little chair, Mother sitting next to him, and I would pour tea and serve them little cakes. He taught me to ride a bike, and throw a ball, to carve wood, to play chess … . We would lie on the grass on the hill behind the house very late at night and look up at the stars and tell each other stories that we made up. He made up the most wonderful stories and I would laugh and laugh.”

“Father tried to explain once, why he couldn’t … be like other people. I didn’t really understand everything he tried to tell me, but I did understand that he had been so hurt that he couldn’t be with other people any more. He needed us, and loved us, so … .“ She stared for a moment, and then just shrugged her shoulders, with a wistful smile on her face. “Well, that’s all.”

***

Adam sat down with Margaret the next week to talk about her finances. She hadn’t known she was a wealthy young woman until the meeting with Mr Slickson. He had read of the death of Mr Hale in the local paper, and had written to Margaret that he had her father’s will. Uncle Adam went with her, where she learned her father had amassed a small fortune through shrewd investment of a small inheritance many years before. Her parents had lived frugally on her father’s military pension, and had ignored the considerable assets they had which would have afforded a much more comfortable life. Now that was Margaret’s.

Mr Slickson and Adam could see relief flood Margaret’s face. “I had been so worried, Uncle Adam, that I wouldn’t be able to repay you for all you are doing for me.”

Adam just shook his head. “Margaret, I told you, you are like my own child now and I am happy to provide for you. I’m even happier that you will never have to worry about money. I know a financial services firm in our town that will be able to handle all of your investments, and will keep you well informed. I’ll call John tomorrow, if you want me to arrange that.”

“Oh, yes, please, someone you trust, Uncle Adam. My father did talk to me about investing, but I didn’t ever have any money of my own, so … I would like to talk to someone about money and how to take care of what I have.” 

Uncle Adam didn’t tell Margaret something else Mr. Slickson had told him privately. He didn’t want to worry her, but he would tell Fred to be careful. Mr. Slickson had a visit from a man who said he needed to know where Margaret was staying, now that she was out of the hospital. He said his son was a close friend of Margaret’s and wanted to visit her. Mr. Slickson told him clients’ personal contact information was confidential, but he could forward a letter to Margaret for him. The man never gave his name, and simply left the office without leaving any message.


	4. A Serious Young Man

Adam hung up the phone, certain that the call he’d made to John would benefit Margaret greatly. Upon his instructions, and with Margaret’s written authorization, Mr Slickson faxed and emailed the pertinent information ahead of their appointment with Hamper & Corcoran Financial Consultants so Mr Hamper had the time to review Margaret’s assets and current investments. He drew a plan for investment that he thought suitable for such a young person on her own.

Adam had known John Thornton for six years. Initially, he knew him simply as a new student at the university, but long before John graduated, Adam had become aware of the computer programs that John was designing to guide investment decisions. Adam was the chair of one of the endowment committees at the university, and one of his committee tasks was to recommend investments for the university’s growing endowment funds. 

Adam’s committee had been seeking investment advice from several quarters for the past four years, and the advice they received was so often conflicting that they weren’t sure where to turn. They were looking for something different, and heard of the computer programs being designed by one of their own undergraduates. They asked John to set up a portfolio for tracking purposes, to see what kind of yield the university might get if his program were used. They followed that portfolio for more than a year, without actually investing any money. The growth they saw, combined with the safety of the chosen investments, convinced them that this young man would be a good addition to their committee, and John was invited to sit on the committee starting in his third year.

John Thornton was a very bright young man, working hard to make something of himself. He’d had a full academic scholarship to the university and completed a double major in economics and computer science in just three and a half years. After graduation, he had worked as a consultant, working up various types of programs for investment companies, primarily involving data mining and analysis of market trends. And now, on the recommendation of several of his professors, he had been offered a one year part-time instructorship at the university just two years after graduation. John accepted it for two reasons. He wanted to see how he liked teaching, and he wanted to be nearby for his sister’s first year as a student at Mills.

John had missed a lot during Fran’s early teen years, and he regretted that. Their father had left home when Fran was still a toddler, and John had been the ‘man’ in her life until he had gone off to university. He hated leaving her behind, alone with their mother, but he had no choice at the time, Fran was only twelve years old. He studied hard while in college, but made sure he took enough time out to go home to see his sister often. She had confided in him her whole life, and continued to do that when she was in high school. They had long talks about boys, and John was prepared to be the over protective big brother when she started dating, but disappointingly to Fran, much less so to John, she never really dated in high school. Going out with boys was always a group thing with her friends and there had never been any special boy to talk about.

John himself had been cripplingly shy as an adolescent, awkward around other children, embarrassed at being the only one in the neighborhood not having a father living with them. His mother had angrily said that their father didn’t care about them, but John just couldn’t believe that was true. His father had spent so many hours with him when he wasn’t working, always ready to answer any questions John had or show him how to do something, putting together models with him, playing ball in the back yard. John knew his father loved him and couldn’t understand why he quickly stopped visiting after he left their home. 

John had been short and a bit heavy when he entered high school, and tended to hang back from the other students, just silently watching the ‘popular’ kids, envying them their social ease. He wanted friends, but he was too shy to approach other students. And his mother insisted he come home directly after school to help around the house and to watch his sister, so he never had the chance to hang around after school with any of the other boys and get to know them. He also did very well in classes, another good reason, so they thought, for the bullies to torment him.

John discovered swimming during the summer after his second year of high school. He had taken a lifesaving course so he could work at the local pool that summer, and the new exercise started to trim his body. That was also when puberty kicked in. His voice dropped, he grew four inches in three months and he was suddenly slender. When classes started again for his third year, he tried out for the swim team and placed second in the try outs, never having swum competitively before. By the end of his third year, he was the lead swimmer on the varsity team, had grown another five inches and developed powerful chest and shoulder muscles. 

John had made fast friends with his team mates and no longer felt out of place at school. He had also discovered that girls liked tall, dark and slender blue-eyed young men with shy smiles. He started to date when he was seventeen, although he still found himself shy around young women. He made the mistake of bringing home a girl just once during high school. His mother’s disapproval hung over the room like a rain cloud. She grilled the young woman about her family, her school work, her social life and came dangerously close to asking about her sex life. John got her out of there as soon as possible; he never dated her again, too embarrassed at the way his mother had behaved to ever talk to her again.

John had worked very hard in high school, taking as many AP courses as possible, and had a part time job as well, to cover the cost of the computer equipment he needed for his programming. He began designing computer programs as soon as he got his first Mac. He started out writing games, and selling encoded discs to fellow students. He moved on to other programming areas, including designing and supporting websites for local companies. By the time he graduated high school, he had his own business designing websites and security systems.

During his undergraduate years, he continued to develop programs, moving beyond games to investment analysis. He found investment companies were always on the look out for better analysis which they could use to hook new clients. He easily resisted the enticements to join the firms as an employee. He wasn’t going to give up the rights to his intellectual property for a salary and a benefits package. He spent many afternoons after classes demonstrating his new programs to partners in investment companies. The computer programs that he licenced to those companies began to make him a substantial amount of money, most of which he invested. 

Living in a dorm room was a revelation to John. No one cared when he got up, when he ate, whether he lay in bed all day Sunday, where his clothes lay on the floor. By the time he had finished his first semester at university, John knew he would never be able to live at home again. He had chafed at his mother’s restrictions on his life while he was in high school. Once he felt the freedom of living among people his own age, without someone grilling him about his every move all day long, he knew he could never go home again. However, he didn’t want to move away while his baby sister was still at home, so during his third year, he purchased an apartment in town with his income from licencing fees, knowing that it would sell well when he was ready to leave the area. 

John loved living in his own apartment, but he definitely felt something missing in his life. He had kept himself busy academically at college, but had been eager to find someone to share his life with. Perhaps growing up without a father had made him yearn to have his own family, to settle down at a younger age than other men. He wanted his own family, and he would never leave his children, he promised himself that. He didn’t really know how to make it happen, he just knew he wanted to have a serious relationship, not just play the field as most men his age were doing. 

John had his share of girlfriends at university, but only one had been serious, and that had ended in tears - his. He had loved Katherine, he was sure of it. They had started dating in his second year. She was a business administration major, and they were in some economics classes together. Katherine was everything John thought he wanted in a woman - beautiful, smart, funny, warm. 

They made a striking couple. John was now well over six feet tall, as slim as a reed but with a powerful chest, black hair, an arresting nose and piercing blue eyes. Katherine was six inches shorter than John, with long mahogany brown hair with a natural wave in it, smokey grey eyes, full lips, a full figure - what John would call perfect. And Katherine got along well with his sister Fran when Fran would visit John on campus, even helping her with wardrobe choices as she entered high school. She also managed to tolerate Hannah’s intrusive interrogations when John took her home over the winter holidays. Not that she asked John to take her there again.

Katherine was the first woman John ever slept with. He realized at the time that he wasn’t the first for her, but he didn’t mind, he knew he would be the last. But to John’s dismay, Katherine refused to date him exclusively. She told him she didn’t want to get serious at such a young age, even if she really liked him. Like me! I’m in love with her, I want to marry her, and she ‘likes’ me, he thought. But John was afraid that if he told her he loved her, that he wanted to marry her, he would frighten her away. Instead he told her he understood, it was fine if they dated other people, they both needed time to get to know each other better. 

But it turned out they didn’t have time. Katherine, who said she didn’t want to get serious with anyone, met a man in Ft Lauderdale on spring break three months later, married him and never came back to Mills. She transferred to another college and John never saw her again.

John was heartbroken. It was a long time before he was able to think about dating again. He met Ann Latimer several months later, and they became good friends. He tried, really tried, to fall in love with her. She was warm, funny, smart and he thought she loved him, but … she wasn’t Katherine. It just didn’t happen, he couldn’t do it. He began to think there was something wrong with him, some damaged part that other people could see but that he didn’t know about, that he would have to fix. He was successful at school and at business, why not in his personal life?

***

Hamper was pleased that his young partner John Thornton had brought in another client, this time through his friend Adam Bell. Investing in the young man had been a good idea. John didn’t meet with clients himself; he worked exclusively on analysis with his program. Indeed, when he had called Hamper, he didn’t even know the name of Adam’s friend who needed investment advice, just that it was a very young person who had suddenly inherited a significant amount of money and needed sound investment advice.

John had come to the firm during his sophomore year in college with a computer program he had designed with his own algorithms, useful in predicting certain economic trends and calibrating market predictions for individual risks based on those trends. John had applied for a patent for his program, and was just beginning his attempt to licence it to as many companies as possible. Hamper had seen the value in having the young man attached to their company exclusively, and offered to make him a junior partner if he didn’t licence the program to any competing firms within ten surrounding counties. John specifically retained the rights to any work he did that did not directly involve the licenced program.

The firm and John had both made a lot of money in those first years, and both were well pleased with the arrangement, although Hamper knew that their deal would be good for just one more year. If it weren’t renegotiated, Hamper’s licence would expire and the young partner would be gone, along with his program and the profits it generated. Hamper was hoping his young partner’s sister would need him to stay nearby for a lot longer.


	5. School?

Fred had spoken with Adam about Margaret taking classes at university. “Dad, she’s almost ready to have the casts off. She’ll be in rehab for some time, but she should be strong enough in a couple of months to get around campus. I know it’s really late, will she be able to get in, just for a couple of courses? She’s really bright.”

“Yes, Fred, I know and I’ve already spoken to Tom Classon in admissions. He said she’ll have to take some tests and he’ll have to see monitoring and test reports from the Lancaster County authorities, but if those are fine, there shouldn’t be any problem.” Adam was confident that Margaret would be permitted to attend classes, even if she weren’t registered as a full time student. “Now, we have to talk to Margaret about it. She’s never been in a classroom. I don’t have any idea how she feels about that. It might be a very intimidating idea to her at first. Her entire life has changed drastically in the past six weeks, we’ll just have to see how much more change she can handle right now.”

***

“Margaret, how was rehab today? Is it any easier with the casts off?” Fred had just picked Margaret up from the outpatient rehab facility at the hospital. She had been going three days a week since her discharge, but this was her first session without the casts. She would need her wheelchair for a while longer, but was determined to get out of it as soon as possible.

Her left leg and arm were pale and looked thinner than the right. She had been shocked by the scars. The scar on her arm wasn’t too bad, it had been a simple fracture. But the fracture in her leg had been compound, and the skin had been torn badly. The surgery had repaired the torn skin, but she thought the scar was hideous. 

“I didn’t do as well as I hoped, Fred. I guess I thought that once the casts were off, I could just start walking, maybe slowly, but under my own power. But I don’t have any strength yet, Vince said I lost quite a bit of muscle, and he kept telling me I have to be patient.” Margaret sighed, “I’ve always been patient, my whole life, I’ve had to be, everything came to me when someone else decided.”

“Fred, I feel so … .“ Margaret stopped, and just stared into the distance for a while. “I miss my parents, and I feel guilty that I’m doing so many things now that I know they wouldn’t have wanted me to do. My therapist is a man, and I was never allowed to … , well, certainly not let a man touch me.“ She laughed. “Not that I ever went anywhere that could happen.”

“But, Fred, it doesn’t feel wrong, Vince needs to touch me to help me, so I’m not sure what they were worried about.” Margaret frowned. “Maybe they thought something was wrong with me, that I would do something wrong. … I don’t remember ever …” She shrugged her shoulders, looking up at Fred, shaking her head. “I just don’t understand. And … I love you, Fred, and I love Uncle Adam, and I don’t think that’s wrong, but I still feel guilty, because … .” She stopped and stared out the window, unable to say what she was thinking.

“Tell me, Margaret. There have been too many secrets. You can tell me anything, I won’t leave you,” Fred said quietly.

“I have … I’m so angry sometimes, Fred, it frightens me. I don’t want to be, I loved them and thought … no, I know they loved me. But I find myself thinking about growing up and what I see around me now, and what other people’s lives are like and … sometimes I wonder how different things would have been, how different I would have been if I had lived with my own brother, if I had gone to school, if I had friends … I keep telling myself they were protecting me, they loved me, but … then I feel guilty for thinking what I’m thinking.”

“Margaret, don’t feel guilty. I understand the anger. I felt it myself when I found out about our mother, that she was alive and just … well, didn’t want to see me or have anything to do with me. I saw someone.” Fred hesitated, not knowing how Margaret would feel about what he was going to suggest. “I saw a therapist for a few weeks, just to talk about my feelings. I think it helped me, talking about how I felt. You could do that Margaret. What do you think?”

Margaret just murmured something noncommittal. Therapy? Another thing Father scoffed at, another thing to do that I would feel guilty about. She looked out the window; the rehab session had taken a lot out of her. She thought she was getting stronger, but now she was so tired she couldn’t keep her eyes open another minute. She drifted off to sleep in the car. Fred carried her into the house and laid her on her own bed, covering her with a quilt, where she woke up two hours later.

***

Fred and Uncle Adam had always done all their own cooking, and were quite good in the kitchen. However, now Margaret would never let either of them cook a whole meal alone, she always came in to help. They had fun showing her all the kitchen things they used when they found out she hadn’t had them at home. Margaret’s family had grown almost all their own vegetables, and their cooking was quite simple. They rarely bought tins of food, or packets or frozen food; they preserved enough of their own garden every year to last the whole winter. They didn’t use a microwave or an espresso machine or rice steamer. It was like learning to cook all over again, and Margaret had fun in the kitchen, which she’d never had before. 

They had just finished dinner. Uncle Adam said he’d like to talk about something important. “Why don’t we go into the living room?”

“Margaret, did you have plans to go to university? Did you talk about it with your parents?” he started.

Margaret had looked down at her hands, a habit Fred had noticed when she talked about her family. “We never really discussed it, Father wouldn’t talk about it. I don’t think they would have let me go.” Her voice got even quieter. “Do you remember me telling you about a family that visited me in hospital?” Fred answered yes, he knew someone had come, but Margaret hadn’t said who they were, just that she didn’t want to see them again. 

“Well, …,” Margaret paused, swallowing hard, “I think my parents might have agreed that … I was to marry their son. I had just met him the day of the accident, then they came to the hospital to say I should go live with them and marry Jared. That scared me,” she said, and gave a little laugh. “I don’t know anything about boys or men, or going to university … Father said that university was dangerous for young women, that there were so many bad things that could happen, that it was best for me to stay home. He would get angry if I argued about certain kinds of things, anything to do with protecting us, he … .” Margaret stopped, shaking her head and frowning. “We could talk about anything, really, unless he saw it as dangerous to us, then he wouldn’t discuss it. University was one of those topics, no discussion, period.”

Margaret looked at them both. “Really, I know I did very well with my studies. I had to take tests every four months for the state, so that I could study at home instead of going to public school, and I always did well. I thought about college, and tried to talk to them about it, but my father refused.” Margaret looked up expectantly. “I think I might like to try it. Actually, I know I want to.”

“Good, Margaret. It’s not dangerous here. You’ll be fine, and besides, I’ll be there, and Nick and Guy.” Fred had been so excited when he found Margaret, he wanted to share the news with his best friends. After Margaret had finally woken up in the hospital, he told Nick and Guy that he had a sister. Having known Fred their whole lives, they thought he was joking. But he eventually managed to convince them that he did indeed have a little sister who he hoped would be coming home to live with him and his father.

Nick and Guy came over one day shortly after Margaret had gotten out of the hospital. They had walked into the music room that afternoon and seen a very small young woman sitting in a wheelchair. She was wearing a Yankees cap on her head and had casts on her left leg and arm. She had smiled shyly at them when they were introduced, and they both told Fred, “She doesn’t look anything like you, she’s good looking.” Margaret blushed and Fred laughed.

They had spent that first afternoon telling Margaret every embarrassing thing they could think of about Fred, so she spent the afternoon smiling and laughing, and Fred spent the afternoon groaning and protesting. Margaret liked them both, and they liked her, Guy in particular. He was a little bit taller than Fred, with black hair that he wore long, and sparkling blue eyes. He was slender, and fancied himself looking good in black, so he almost always wore black jeans and black t-shirts or pullovers.

Fred knew Margaret would probably need help coping with so many new things at once - people, school, living with strangers, a new family, her injuries - she was overwhelmed. He asked Nick and Guy to be big brothers to Margaret. As young men looking to impress young women, they took to the idea straight away. They wanted to be seen as helping a young woman in need, they liked that image of themselves, and they thought other young women would like it as well, maybe smoothing the dating path for them, not that Guy had ever had any problems finding young women who wanted to go out with him. 

All three also thought that Margaret was completely in the dark about teenage boys and men and she needed some extra time to figure out that particular animal for herself. So, they decided to let other people think what they wanted about Fred and Margaret’s relationship, they weren’t advertising she was his sister. They didn’t have the same last name, people, other young men, would probably just assume they were dating. Margaret would have control there, she would tell anyone she wanted about her family, her brother, the accident, when she was ready.

“No one knows you at all. They’ll probably just think you’re my girlfriend because we’ll spend a lot of time together. No one on campus has ever seen you, I’ve never had a sister, so … ” Fred hesitated, wondering how Margaret would feel about this suggestion.

“Fred, I don’t want to lie to anyone.”

“That’s okay, Margaret, we won’t lie. We’ll just let people draw their own conclusions, people do that all the time. And, you’re going to get a room on campus, Margaret. No, no, don’t argue, Uncle Adam agrees it’s a good idea for you. I did it this past year and it’s good to get away from home and live with other students. I know, it’s kind of like being thrown in at the deep end for you, but we think it’s a good idea for you to live with young women your own age. This house is just a few blocks away and you can always come home any time you want. This is your home now, and we’re not trying to get rid of you. And I promise I’ll be around so much you will be absolutely sick of me in no time.” Margaret gave him a playful poke and Fred grinned. “Once you’re finished with rehab, you’ll be the social butterfly of the university.”

***

Two days later Adam and Margaret were sitting in the offices of a financial advisor. Mr Hamper was telling Margaret about her investments, and about a computer program that his firm relied on that had several recommendations for future investments specifically for her. He told Margaret she would get a report every month on her investments, and if she wanted, she could access her accounts online and make changes any time she wanted. 

When Adam and Margaret left Hamper’s office, Margaret was wondering when she would stop feeling as if she were newly born almost every day. One of these days, I’m going to start feeling comfortable, as if I actually belong where I am. I hope it’s soon. Fred said I’m wrong, that people aren’t staring at me, but they are. Even with the casts gone, they’re staring, at the wheelchair, at the hairless wonder sitting in it. Well, I have to get better, I have to live the life I have now, not the one that might have been. And definitely not the one my parents had planned for me.

***

“I’ve found her,” the man said. “She’s living with a professor and his son at Mills University. I’ve been watching for several days. She is never alone, so you’ll have to wait.”


	6. Fran's Escape

John had promised his sister that she would be able to live on campus when she started university, and he was going to see that it happened. He thought it was too important to give in to their mother’s continued moaning. Hannah was not a happy woman, had never been a happy woman as long as John could remember. She preferred her gloom, but he was not going to let it stop Fran from experiencing college life as she should.

“John, she’ll never let me go, you know she won’t.” Fran was in tears. All of her friends were off to university in the next two weeks, and Fran was still at home, no dorm, no roommate, nothing packed, resigning herself to living at home and commuting to classes. Hannah had insisted that she could not live alone, they would find her dead one day when they visited, with no one in the world caring. John just rolled his eyes to the ceiling and gruffly told Fran to call the university to reserve one of the few remaining rooms, right now. Fran opened her eyes wide and went to the phone. When her brother growled like that, she didn’t argue.

John stalked out of Fran’s room and went to the kitchen, where Hannah was bemoaning her fate of having two children, neither of whom cared a fig for her and were leaving her to die alone. “Mother, you have to stop this bullying right now! Fran is old enough to go off to school and that’s exactly what she is going to do in two weeks time. I thought we straightened this all out the last time I was home.”

“John, you should be ashamed of yourself talking to your mother that way. My heart can’t take it. I need Fran here with me, I could be taken at any minute with a spell. And these dormitories are unsafe, there are men living in the same room with the girls, they have to take showers in the same bathroom, they are having sex all the time. I cannot believe you want to subject your own little sister to that kind of … disgusting behaviour,” Hannah shuddered.

“Mother, it is not unsafe. Fran will be fine. There are people around all the time, she’ll have a roommate, a female roommate, you can … ” John stopped. He almost made a mistake there. He’d been about to say that Hannah could call Fran at any time at school. Better not put that idea into her head, Fran will not have a moment’s peace. 

“This will be a wonderful experience for Fran, she will love it, and she will have it. I told you I would make sure it worked out, and I will. My apartment is just three blocks from campus, so I will be there if Fran needs a big brother at any time. And you know that you can call me and leave messages for me and I always call you back. So I’m not going to listen to any more of this. I lived at university when I went and Fran has to as well, so you’re just going to have to get over this nonsense.”

John paused, gathering his thoughts for the next battle. “Now, I told you I would make sure you aren’t alone. I have a choice for you, so please listen. Aunt Belle is going to move. Since Uncle Andrew died she has decided her house is way too big, and somewhat isolated as well. She is willing to move in here with you, for the time being, and see how it works with the two of you in the same house again for the first time in decades. I personally think that would be great. We haven’t gotten to see Aunt Belle as much as we’d like, what with them living on that farm for so long. Now, your other choice is a total stranger. You can rent one of the rooms to one of the new librarians in town, she is looking for a place to live for the next several months. What do you say?” 

John folded his arms across his chest, waiting her out. He knew she didn’t want either one. She wanted Fran at home, at her beck and call, with no life of her own. Well, John wouldn’t allow it. He had seen her drive away their father with her incessant complaints and demands and her hypochondria, he couldn’t allow his little sister to be trapped here. She was entitled to her own life. He almost felt a little guilty that he had escaped and left Fran here, but she had still been in elementary school when he started college, so that couldn’t be helped. But she would get her chance now.

John knew the idea of a total stranger in the house would not be welcome, even if it was a middle-aged single woman with a love of books and goldfish. But Aunt Belle - well, she was quite a character and would take no nonsense from her younger sister if they were living together. Quite a decision for Hannah, and John was only slightly embarrassed at the pleasure he got from the thought of Hannah having such an uncomfortable choice. 

“Mother? I have to let Aunt Belle and Miss Hawkins know your decision within the next three or four days, so please don’t take too long making up your mind. Of course, you could always choose to live alone.” John smiled at Hannah and walked back to see Fran.

“Fran, did you call the university yet?” He knocked on Fran’s door and she opened it quickly, grinning. 

“John, I called just in time. I got a place in the last triple. I get my own bedroom, plus we have a lounge and a small kitchenette, and it’s in the newest building. And I need the deposit money by tomorrow!?” Fran looked at him with raised eyebrows and a grimace, wondering where they would get the money so quickly.

John laughed and hugged her. “Good thing you finally called. You should have listened to your big brother sooner. And don’t worry about the money, I’ll give you a check tomorrow. Guess what? Aunt Belle might be coming to live here with Mother. Fireworks, anyone?” John grinned and Fran giggled, hugging him again.

***

John stepped off the elevator on the third floor, carrying a large box, and looking for Rm. 306. He followed the signs and found Fran talking to another young woman who was also moving in. “John, this is Edith, one of my roommates. Edith, this is my brother John.” 

John saw an attractive young blonde woman smiling at him. Looks okay, hope she’s not as messy as Fran, they’ll neither of them ever find anything again in this suite. “Nice to meet you, Edith. Fran, which one is your room? I’d like to put the box down.”

When John came back out of Fran’s room, Edith had gone off to get more of her own boxes. After four more trips to his car, John carried the last of the boxes into Fran’s room. He sank into the sofa in the lounge and looked around. “So, is your other roommate here yet Fran? Do you know her name?” John asked as Fran handed him a glass of water.

“Her name is Margaret Hale. I don’t know if she’s here. She has that room,” she gestured to a closed door on the other wall, “and I thought I heard someone in there, but no one has come out. I thought about knocking … ” Fran stopped, as the door in question opened suddenly. As they both watched, they saw a tall young man coming out, dragging several large empty boxes out of the room with him. Fred turned as he shut the door and saw a man and young woman staring at him.

“Hi, I’m Fred Bell.” He looked to Fran. “You must be one of Margaret’s new roommates. Pleased to meet you. Margaret will be coming tomorrow, I think. I was just trying to get everything unpacked and set up for her. She isn’t very strong yet.” John’s eyebrows raised at the last. Fred held out his hand to John, smiling.

“John Thornton, I’m Fran’s brother, just helping her move her stuff in. But I’m off now, have my own apartment to straighten up before classes start.” John got up to leave.

Fred gave John a bemused look. “Are you a student here as well?”

“No. I’m going to teach two courses here, economics, just part time. Fran, don’t forget to call Mother. Best keep in touch regularly, or she might show up here and try to drag you back home. I’ve got to get going. Nice to meet you Fred. Bye.” With that, John turned to leave.

John stopped, remembering something, and turned back to look at Fred. “Fred Bell? Any relation to Adam Bell of the English department?”

“Yes,” Fred replied, smiling, “he’s my father.” 

“Well, Fred, please tell him hello for me.” John left, reminding Fran again to call home.

Fran rolled her eyes as John left. “Big brothers. So, Fred, you’re a student here?” Fran smiled at him. Nice looking, nice smile, tall, hmm, wonder what he is to my roommate. “Did you say Margaret isn’t strong?”

Fred sorted the boxes by size in preparation for carrying them out to the car, and then straightened up. “Yes, I’m starting my second year in economics. Oh, right, your brother, maybe I’ll see him as a teacher eventually. And Margaret, well, she was in a bad accident a couple of months ago, and needs help right now doing some things, getting around. She’s getting better every day.” Fred wasn’t sure how much he should say. She seems friendly enough, but we decided, it’s Margaret’s choice how much she wants to tell anyone about … everything. “Well, Fran, I’ll probably see you tomorrow when I bring Margaret over. Bye.” With that, Fred grabbed his boxes and left.

Fran looked out the window to the parking lot in back and saw Fred putting the boxes in a large van. She turned back, contemplating where to start with her unpacking. She began humming a tune, just so happy to be at the university and looking forward to classes starting the next week.


	7. Siblings

Fran and John were having their first meal with Aunt Belle and Hannah since Fran had started classes two weeks earlier. Aunt Belle had moved in just a couple of days ago, and she was still sorting out what was going where, as she had brought some furniture with her. She had also brought Fitzwallace, much to Hannah’s chagrin. “Belle, that animal will make a mess in the house and there will be cat hair everywhere. I can’t keep up with the housework as it is, now I have to clean up after your cat?”

“Hannah, he’s perfectly well groomed, I clean out his box every day myself, he doesn’t scratch your furniture, and he doesn’t talk your ear off. What better house guest could you want? By the way, I’m taking down those ugly curtains in my bedroom and replacing them with new. They date from the Crimean War, don’t they?” Belle ignored Hannah’s spluttering, the house hadn’t seen any change since George had left almost fifteen years ago and Belle thought it was high time it was freshened up. 

John had persuaded Hannah to let him move some of the older, uglier furniture into the basement to make room for Belle’s things. He would try to talk Hannah into getting rid of at least some of the pieces once they’d been out of sight for a while. They now had a piano in the living room. Belle had always had music in her life and she wasn’t giving that up just because she was downsizing. She simply ignored Hannah’s warnings that the neighbors would complain about the noise by commenting that the piano didn’t make noise, it made music.

Belle was five years older than Hannah and had practically brought Hannah up after their mother had died just four years after Hannah was born. Belle was only nine years old herself, but a very self sufficient little girl. She helped her father as best she could and kept her younger sister out of trouble. She had been a spirited and happy child, even with so many responsibilities as a youngster. The complete opposite of her younger sister, who never seemed content and cried and complained whenever things didn’t go exactly the way she wanted, which was often in her view.

Belle had studied music in high school, singing in both the school and church choirs and any musicals the school theatre group put on. She’d taken an office job after graduation, joining any local choral group she could find so as to keep up her singing. Once Hannah had graduated high school, Belle felt free to move to New York, where she began a career she loved, singing in small clubs. She was an attractive young woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, not so much plump as curvy in all the right places, and she looked good in the evening wear that management expected the singers to appear in.

She loved the camaraderie she found among the musicians in the small bands, and most of them were quite protective of her, treating her like a younger sister. If any male customers became a little too friendly towards Belle after having too much to drink, they found she was quickly surrounded by a group of men who wouldn’t let anyone near her. She couldn’t afford to live on her own, but shared an apartment with the sister of one of the musicians, saving some money and having company on her days off.

Belle had been amazed that Hannah had ever gotten married. Her sister had never seemed to like boys and never dated in high school, saying all the boys just wanted one thing. Hannah had gone to secretarial school and gotten a position as a personal secretary to an executive at one of the many mills in the city. She lived with their father until his death, then lived in their childhood home alone for two years after that. Although she had never seemed over fond of her older sister, she complained that Belle should come home to live with her after their father died. It was definitely the last thing Belle would consider as far as living arrangements went, and she stayed in New York. 

George Thornton, another employee at the mill, had somehow managed to find the young woman hiding behind Hannah’s serious, somewhat grumpy façade and they had married just three months after they started dating. He was a very mild mannered man, content with Hannah making most of the decisions about their life together, and they seemed happy at first. He was thrilled at the birth of their son John, and was a doting father. 

George wanted to provide well for his growing family, and started taking on more responsibility every year at the mill. While Hannah constantly urged him to better himself within the company and bring home more money now that she wasn’t working, at the same time she began to complain about the time he was away from them. With each promotion and salary increase, his hours at work seemed to grow. By the time Fran was born, Hannah seemed to spend her entire day complaining about her ever absent husband and how overworked she was with two children. The complaints to George started the moment he set foot in the house every night, and he came home later and later at night every year.

George Thornton left when John was nine and Fran was just three. Hannah had never confided in Belle why George left, but her bitterness had grown deeper with each year. They never divorced, and Hannah refused to let him visit with the children out of her presence. She made visitation so miserable for all of them that George had stopped coming very quickly. He spent the rest of his life alone in a small apartment in the same town, spending all of his time working, sending a substantial portion of his salary every month to Hannah, for the support of John and Fran. 

John had good early memories of his father. George had taught him how to play ball, how to ride a bike, how to read. He had missed his father, and hadn’t understood why he had left. John contacted his father during his first year at university and they met several times and talked for hours. Without Hannah’s knowledge, John arranged to take Fran to see their father two or three times after school. John had to blink back tears when he saw the pleasure his father got from seeing the little girl for the first time in so many years.

George had apologized to John about deserting the family, saying he had endured years of abuse from Hannah, and never knew why. He died of a massive heart attack just four months after John had first contacted him. Hannah refused to attend the funeral, saying her husband had abandoned them all and didn’t deserve anyone mourning him. John ignored her complaints and took Fran out of school for the funeral himself. John was so glad that he had reached out to his father, and had gotten to know him again before his death. But he never knew how much Hannah cried in private those days; she couldn’t, wouldn’t talk to anyone about it.

***

“So, Fran, tell me all about your classes,” Aunt Belle said across the table.

“Well, there are lots of general things I’m taking, you know, the typical first year classes are usually so large - English literature, intro sociology, intro biology, Spanish and baby economics, as John calls it. I’ve only had two classes in each so far, so I don’t really know much yet, but I am certainly enjoying it. The first three classes are huge, more than 200 students in each, so not too personal, but I also don’t get called on, just lectures so far. I like my professors, especially Dr Bell. And I know his son, Fred Bell, he’s one of my roommate’s boyfr … ” Fran stopped, knowing she was about to say the wrong thing.

“Boyfriend? Your roommate has a boyfriend? Is he in your room at night? John, I told you … ” John interrupted Hannah. 

“Mother, I’ve met Fred. He is a perfectly respectable young man, and he certainly never stays in the suite overnight. He lives with his father off campus this year. He is not Margaret’s boyfriend. They are just friends with mutual interests.” John felt he was twisting the truth for a good cause, because Hannah would go into meltdown if she knew that Fred spent time alone in Margaret’s room with her, with the door closed. It was none of their business what Fred and Margaret got up to when they were alone, although John personally felt they were way too young to be having sex and if Fran wanted to do the same thing, he would stop her, no matter what it took.

“Well, I want to meet this roommate. Fran, why don’t we say next Sunday? Please ask this Margaret person to come for lunch.” Hannah looked at John and Fran and saw a look pass between them. “What? What is wrong with having your roommate to lunch here? Am I so unwelcoming?” John bit his tongue, rather than answering that question.

John decided to be the one to speak. “Mother, Margaret can’t come next week. Why don’t we wait awhile and talk about it again in a few weeks?”

John had just met Margaret for the first time the day before, when he had stopped by to help Fran with a computer problem. He saw this very slight young woman come out of the room wearing an enormous t-shirt, baggy track pants and a baseball cap. He got a quick glimpse of enormous eyes, a pale complexion and a lovely smile, before she saw him and quickly lowered her head. She seemed startled to find him in the lounge. Fran introduced him, and John asked her how she was enjoying her classes. 

Margaret said, “Very much, thank you, Mr Thornton.” She had answered so softly he had to strain to hear her. She retrieved some yogurt from the fridge and slowly made her way back to her room, one hand against the wall as she walked. John looked at Fran and raised an eyebrow. 

Fran just shrugged her shoulders and said, ”She’s really shy, John. She seems very sweet, she helped me with homework already, she’s smart, but … well, shy would be an understatement. Edith and I are working on it,” she said with a small smile.

“What’s with the baseball cap? The Yankees, she obviously has serious mental issues. Is she trying to look like a pre-teen boy in that outfit?” John joked lamely, unsettled somehow by the young woman, but not sure why.

“Fred said she was in a very bad accident. Her hair is really short and she’s self conscious about it, so that’s why she wears the cap. And most of her clothes are way too big for her, so I think she must have lost weight too, so maybe it’s hard for her right now and she doesn’t need some big oaf making fun of her appearance.” Fran didn’t usually talk that way to John and he looked at her in surprise.

“Fran? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything nasty by it. I was just wondering why she looked like that. Was I insensitive about your friend with my stupid joke? I apologize.” John stood, seeing tears in Fran’s eyes. “Fran? Talk to me.”

“It’s not really you I’m upset with, John, it’s me. When I first saw Margaret, I thought the same thing. And I laughed at her clothes, they’re all so, so childish or just plain ugly. Not to her face, which makes it worse. But she’s really nice, and everything is still hard for her, she is really weak, and doesn’t walk well yet … ” John saw tears in Fran’s eyes and he put his arm around her. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Fran. You made a mistake at first, and you’re working on being her friend now, aren’t you? And I will try not to be such a jerk whenever I see the Yankees logo, okay?” Fran smiled and hugged her big brother.

Hannah spoke again. “Why? What’s wrong?” suspicious that a young woman was somehow unavailable for a home cooked meal. “Does she see her own family every week?”

Fran sighed, looking at her brother. Might as well tell her now, I know what’s she’s going to say. “Mother, Margaret is not very strong right now, she was using a wheelchair right up until classes started. But it would be hard for her to get here and she’s a bit self conscious needing help. So, better if we wait.”

“Your roommate is a cripple?” Hannah said, her voice rising as she spoke. She saw John shake his head and roll his eyes. “Don’t make faces at me, John Thornton, I don’t think it’s right that your sister should be subjected to this kind of atmosphere. It could be psychologically damaging to have to live with someone who is damaged like that.”

“Mother! Margaret is not a ‘cripple,’ as you call her. She was in an accident and has difficulty walking right now. But she is getting better and is determined to walk well again, I’m sure.” John was annoyed with Hannah, but he was not surprised at the way she spoke. Just think of the continued psychological damage of Fran living the rest of her life here! 

“I’m sure she will be absolutely delighted to accept an invitation to dinner here when she is stronger.” He winked at Aunt Belle, who had been rolling her eyes at her sister’s comments herself.


	8. Escorts at your Service.

Margaret didn’t start classes at the same time as the other students. She was determined to get to class under her own power. She knew she looked odd next to other students, with the baseball cap, with being so thin, with having clothes no other young women seemed to wear. So she refused to use the wheelchair to save energy; she would do it on her own, even if it meant missing a few classes. She had finished rehab, she just needed to build up her strength and endurance. She walked the halls in the dorm every morning, afternoon and evening, going a little farther every time. She just needed to make sure her balance was right, and then she was ready. Edith and Fran took turns walking with her when they weren’t in classes, and although she was still a bit shy with them, she was beginning to enjoy their company more and more.

A week later John was in the faculty lounge, reading the Financial Times and thinking about his next class and the examples and problems he had decided to focus on. He glanced out the window, turned back to the paper, then looked up again. He saw her in the distance, moving very slowly, but definitely without aid. That’s Fran’s roommate, Margaret. I recognize the baseball cap. And she’s starting to make it to class under her own power. Good for her. Looks as if she’s really struggling though. … Maybe I should …

As John was wondering if he should go outside, he saw a student he didn’t know approach Margaret and take her arm. The man was tall and slender, dark hair, athletic looking, good looking actually, John thought, dressed in black jeans and a black shirt. They walked a few feet to a bench, sat and talked for a bit, then the man got up and left. That gave her a bit of a rest. Now what? He watched Margaret get to her feet, using her right arm to push up from the bench, and start off again. The building where she had her class was only another hundred yards or so, but she didn’t have the strongest gait … 

Then another student appeared at her side, this one he recognized, Fred Bell. They walked about half way to the building and sat on the next bench. After talking for a while, he left and Margaret started off again. John looked around, guessing what he’d see next and sure enough, he saw another young man approaching Margaret. So, Fred has friends helping her in shifts - accidental meetings? Maybe he’s hoping she won’t notice what they’re doing. John had a small smile on his face as Margaret disappeared into the building with her latest escort.

John saw the same routine later that week when he returned to campus for his second class. All of the escorts were different, and Margaret was looking just a little bit stronger.

***

John walked into the gym on Saturday night and looked around - no one. Well, it was quite late and there was a mixer on at the student union. Good, I won’t have to swim in a crowd. John had swum with the varsity team while he was in college, and found he missed the regular exercise with teammates, but not the early morning swims. He much preferred coming late. He had started swimming again once Fran had started school, and was getting back into shape.

John changed into his racing suit in the locker room, and hung his goggles around his neck. He grabbed a couple of towels and walked out to the pool, where he saw a young man sitting alone at the bottom of the bleacher seats, reading. Odd place to be studying. He looks familiar, where do I know him from? Not in either of my classes. John looked around and saw no one else, then dove into the pool and started swimming laps. A few minutes later he became aware of someone else in the pool, moving very slowly several lanes away from him. 

After fifteen minutes of laps, John stopped for a breather at the deep end, and glanced over to see who was swimming on the far side of the pool. It was a young woman. Her face was turned away from John, she had very short hair, and was paddling along holding on to a kick board, moving forward slowly with a determined but uncoordinated kick. He saw the young man walking along the side of the pool as she swam, keeping pace with her. He kneeled. “Margaret, you’ve done enough for today, you’re getting tired. Time to get out. No, no arguing, you promised.”

John suddenly realized where he knew that student from - he was one of the escorts, the one dressed in black from the first day. That’s Margaret, that’s why she’s swimming so slowly, just getting her strength back, and this guy is making sure she’s okay. She has good friends. John climbed out of the pool and walked over to where the young man was now standing, trying to help Margaret get out of the pool without getting soaked himself.

“Hang on,” John said, and slipped back into the pool. He stood behind Margaret, put his hands on her waist and lifted her out of the water easily, so that the other man could catch her under the arms and help her onto the deck. As he lifted her, he saw the scars, one on her left arm, and one on her left thigh. And her wet hair didn’t quite hide the scar on her head. So that’s what she’s hiding under that baseball cap.

John climbed out and Margaret turned to look at him. She had recognized his voice immediately. “Thank you for your help, Mr Thornton, I … ” She had just looked from his face down to his suit, and she blushed and turned away. John chuckled at her shyness, she was wearing a racing suit herself, but they didn’t quite do for women what they did for men.

“Mr Thornton,” she said, turning back and looking directly at his face, “this is Guy Sigborne, a friend of mine. Guy, Mr Thornton, Fran’s brother.” The men shook hands, and then Guy carefully wrapped a large towel around Margaret’s shoulders, which covered her down to her knees, and kept his arm around her as they stood there. “Mr Thornton, I have an extra towel if you would like it,” she said, holding her eyes on his face as she proffered the towel. 

John laughed again. “No thanks, I’m going to swim for a while longer. And please, call me John. You aren’t taking any classes with me, and I know you through my sister, so please, first names. Nice to meet you, Guy,” and John walked away, thinking that Guy seemed to be more than friendly with Margaret. As John stood poised to dive back into the pool, he glanced over and saw that Guy was gently drying Margaret’s legs with another towel. He is very attentive. Wonder what Fred thinks about that.

John remembered putting his hands on Margaret’s waist and thought he would have to have a talk with Fran about anorexia. That young woman is skin and bone, nothing more. I hope Fran doesn’t think … Fran was almost as short as Hannah and had always been a bit on the plump side. She’d been teased at school for it, so she was forever dieting, telling John she was fat. John thought his sister looked fine as she was, not at all like some of the skeletally thin women in the fashion magazines Fran looked through. Now he was worried that she might think Margaret’s was the ideal figure. Not! Hmm. Well, she was in an accident of some kind, maybe that’s why ... 

***

There was a storm ready to start, and John was just going to make it to Fran’s dorm before it started pouring, or at least he hoped so. It was late and John had been headed home from the office when Fran called, pleading with him to come over to talk her through a new concept she was having trouble with in her economics class. John sighed as he parked the car. He hadn’t seen Fran in two weeks, she had been busy with classes, he’d been busy at the office. Well, I can tell Mother tomorrow that I’ve been keeping track of Fran, so she’ll be happy. Margaret’s in Fran’s class, they must both be having trouble or they could have worked it out together.

“Fran, I’m here,” John said, knocking on Fran’s door.

“John, I’m sorry,” Fran came to the door and opened it, wearing a bathrobe. “I just had an accident with the blender and I’ve got juice and fruit all over myself. I’ve got to jump into the shower. Sorry. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Fran, what about Margaret? Isn’t she in your economics class? Is she having trouble too? She and I could start while you’re in the shower.” John looked over to Margaret’s room, the door closed.

“John, Margaret was really … upset tonight. She couldn’t settle down to study. She seemed, I don’t know, agitated about the storm. She went to her room a long time ago and hasn’t come out.” Fran closed her door and went off to the bathroom, and John heard the shower running.

John sighed and slumped into the sofa, putting his head back and closing his eyes. The rain had started and he opened his eyes to see flashes of lightning, some of it very close. Suddenly, he heard a noise, but he wasn’t sure what it was. It was close. He heard it again, someone was crying. John just sat quietly, he didn’t know who else was in the suite. There was a very bright flash, then a startling crash of thunder, very close. A scream.

Margaret’s room. John stood, walked to her door and knocked. He could hear her crying, and he tentatively opened the door. He could just see her in the light coming from behind him, sitting up in bed, gripping the covers, eyes wide, tears on her face. John walked over to her bed and sat, putting his arm around her shoulder. She turned and flung her arms around her neck, sobbing. What in the world … ? She’s shaking. “Margaret? It’s okay, you’re all right, ssshh, ssshh … ” John moved his hands slowly over her back, trying to calm her.

Just then, John heard noises in the lounge, and Fred appeared in the doorway, dripping wet. He threw off his raincoat and called to her, “Margaret, I’m here.” Margaret looked up, and reached her arms to him. John rose and Fred took his place. John quietly left, closing the door behind him.

Fifteen minutes later, Fred came out of Margaret’s room. Fran and John had just finished discussing the economics problems that had stumped Fran earlier, and she felt confident that she understood them well enough now to complete her assignment. John had told Fran what had happened earlier, and they both looked at Fred, wondering if there would be any explanation forthcoming. 

Fred saw them looking at him, and sighed. He knew they cared for Margaret. When will Margaret be ready to talk about it? “She’s sleeping, at last. Good thing the storm stopped.” He hesitated, then continued. “It was the accident, it happened during a violent thunderstorm. The …. ” Fred hesitated, then stopped.

“I’m sorry, Margaret isn’t really ready to talk about it yet, so I can’t say anything more. John, thanks for helping her before I could get here. I’ll stay with her.” He saw John raise his eyebrows, but neither of them said anything else. John thought, I’m definitely talking to Fran about boys staying in the suite overnight. She is far too young for that. John, thinking as the older brother, was very conveniently forgetting he was exactly Fred’s age when he and Katherine stayed together overnight.

***

On a beautiful Saturday morning in October John and Ann Latimer met on campus for a soccer game. Ann had hoped for a long term serious relationship when she and John had started dating in college. They had made love a few times, but as John tried to tell her as gently as possible when he stopped visiting her dorm room, he didn’t love her and would not take advantage of her feelings for him. She had resigned herself to the fact that John was never going to feel that way about her, and they were now just good friends. Ann’s younger brother was playing today, and she had asked John to go to the game with her and then for lunch.

It was a sunny day with a cool breeze, perfect for the game. They stood on the sidelines, waiting for the game to begin, and John looked at the crowd. “Fran!” His little sister looked over and waved and ran over to them.

“John, Ann. Fred is playing, so Margaret and I came.” John looked around for Margaret and spotted her, standing near the sideline. He could see a halo of soft, dark auburn curls all over her head. 

“No baseball cap! Thank God, that thing was ugly.” John grinned at Fran as she poked him.

“You just don’t like the Yankees, the cap wasn’t that bad. Her hair’s finally long enough … .” Fran looked at Ann, and decided not to say Margaret’s hair was covering a scar. “Oh, the game’s starting, see you later.” With that, Fran ran back to where Margaret was standing. John saw two young men in uniform near them who looked familiar. He frowned for a moment, then smiled - escorts, must be on the soccer team with Fred. Oh, there’s Guy again, he’s around more than the others.

The teams were closely matched, no scoring at all in the first half. The home team had finally scored with just ten minutes to go, and suddenly two players were on the ground, having both tried to head the ball, and heading each other instead. Fred was lying on the ground and John saw Margaret looking agitated on the sidelines, her face white with worry. Guy was holding her back from going onto the field while Fred was tended to. John and Ann walked over to Fran, standing with Margaret.

“Margaret, he’ll be fine. And you know Fred, he’s the dramatic type, he’ll expect a big round of applause when he finally stands up, so get ready to cheer and clap,” said Guy, standing with his arm firmly around Margaret’s shoulder. John wasn’t sure why, but he was thinking that Guy was a little too close to Margaret, again. Why do you care if he is close to her?

“Fred,” she gave a little cry as he stood and was helped to the sidelines, as spectators clapped. Margaret walked to where Fred came off the field, they sat down together and she buried her head in his chest. They just sat together for a couple of minutes, whispering to each other. John wondered at her seeming panic over a minor injury, and put it down to a teenager in love. I should be so lucky to have someone care for me that way. Well, she’s just a kid, it won’t last. John stared at Margaret for a while, lost in thought, until Ann pulled him away to go for lunch.

“Who was that little girl you were staring at?” Ann asked as they picked up their deli sandwiches and found a table outside. “Seems a little young for you, what is she, about 15?”

John hadn’t realized he had been caught staring at Margaret, and replied, somewhat defensively, “No, Ann, she is not 15, she is 18, same as Fran. She’s Fran’s roommate, one of them, and she was in some accident, so she’s very thin right now. And yes, she is probably too young for me, although she has at least one boyfriend already, and I’m beginning to think Fred had better watch out for Guy, who seems very interested in spending more time with her.” John wondered if he should say something to Fred. None of my business. She’s Fran’s friend, Fran can advise her. … Why did I say ‘probably’ too young? I’m only 24, not exactly ancient yet, but 18 …


	9. Girl Talk

Classes had been in session for a month, and Edith, Fran and Margaret were having a girls’ night. Edith’s boyfriend David had been told not to come around and Fred was practicing with the band. Fran had ordered pizza, the crisps and dip were out and the fridge was stocked with soda. They sat in the lounge in their nightwear to talk. Fran and Edith had talked privately about Margaret’s shyness with them, and both thought she had been trying to tell them something for a while.

Edith, in her usual forthright way, said, “Margaret, where in the world do you shop? That nightgown is awful, my granny wears sexier stuff!”

Margaret blushed and looked down at what she was wearing, then looked at Fran and Edith. She was wearing a flannel nightgown that went from her throat to her ankles. They were both wearing t-shirts and gym shorts. “It’s what I’ve always worn. I don’t know where it came from, my parents bought all of my clothes until … . Well, they used to buy everything. I need to start shopping for myself.” She said the last with a little smile, and nodded her head for emphasis.

Edith looked at Fran and then they both looked at her. Edith and Fran had discussed an intervention about Margaret’s clothes and decided on an approach. Fran started, “Margaret, we both noticed that your clothes are just a bit, well, um, well, … uh, … ” 

Edith rolled her eyes dramatically at Fran’s hesitation. “We wouldn’t be caught dead in them.” Fran nearly spit out her soda. “Oh stop, Fran, it’s true, and I could see in Margaret’s eyes that she doesn’t like them either. What were your parents thinking when they bought that stuff?”

Margaret blushed again. “I’ve seen your faces when I’ve come out of my room some mornings. I know I don’t fit in with the clothes I wear. I never really had many clothes because I didn’t go anywhere, and I’ve never shopped for clothes without my parents. I don’t really know how, or where to shop. And after the accident, I couldn’t really shop, and there were the casts getting in the way of clothes, and my weight has changed so much, and … well, so many things … ” Margaret’s voice just trailed off as she saw them looking at her.

Fran quickly spoke up. “If you want some help with shopping, I’d love to go downtown with you, say Thursday afternoon, when we don’t have class. What do you think?”

“I would like some help, Fran, you always look so nice, but … ” Margaret hesitated and looked apprehensively at Fran. 

“Oh, Margaret, sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I guess. Don’t worry, if you don’t have much money, I know a couple of shops where we can get some very nice things and it won’t cost very much.” Fran blushed, embarrassed that she hadn’t given any thought to the possibility that Margaret might not have money for clothes. I should have thought of that, maybe that’s why she wears those ugly clothes.

“Oh, no, Fran, I’m sure I have money for clothes, and Uncle Adam got me a credit card, but I’ve never used it. It’s just, I don’t think I could wear such small things. I was never allowed … ,” and her voice trailed off.

“Never mind size now. At least we’re going shopping - hallelujah! Oh … you didn’t really mean size, did you?” Fran looked at Margaret blush, and said, “Don’t worry, Margaret, you buy what you feel comfortable with. I like my skirts shortish, and my tops smallish, but not over the top, you cover what you want covered. We’ve all gone through periods when we wanted to show more, and when we wanted to show less, right, Edith?”

Margaret smiled ruefully and said, “Well, I never had a chance to show more or less, because my parents just bought everything I was to wear. I had no say in it at all. There were times I wondered if they thought I was really a boy, what with the clothes they bought me,” she said with a giggle.

“Margaret,” Edith started, “we know things were different for you. It’s just obvious, everything seems new to you. But we’re still figuring out who we are too - we just pretend to be all grown up some times. I have five older brothers, and I never had a boyfriend who wasn’t intimidated into moving on so fast, I don’t think I ever had three dates with the same guy all through high school. Now that I’m here and away from my over protective brothers, I am making up for lost time.” 

She grinned. “David is fun and that’s what I want from a boyfriend right now. I don’t want to get serious, because we’re too young. But the opposite sex up close is certainly a revelation!” Edith had a wicked smile on her face at that last, and Fran laughed.

“Well, I have just the one brother, but he left home six years ago, so I was alone with our mother. Margaret, you’re going to meet her on Sunday for dinner. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love her, she’s my mother. But, I don’t know what I would have done if John hadn’t insisted that I room on campus. She wasn’t going to let me go, and I would have died at home.” Margaret and Edith laughed. Everyone knew Fran’s penchant for exaggeration of her woes. 

“And she fusses about every single piece of clothing I have, the size, the color, the fit, how much it reveals of my so called charms. So I usually rely on John for fashion advice.” She rolled her eyes. “Not really. But he does give me the guy perspective, and he’s always been so sweet to me, I let him think I take his advice about clothes, boys, classes. Keeps him happy.” 

Fran looked at Margaret. Both she and Edith thought she had been trying to start a conversation about family for at least a week. “You’ve never talked about your family. Do you have brothers and sisters?”

Margaret swallowed, and licked her lips. Now is the time. They saw a smile on Margaret’s face, and she looked up.

“I’ve wanted to talk to you, but … at first, I didn’t know you, then I … you already think things about me that aren’t true, and I’m sorry about that.” Fran started to say something, and Margaret held up her hand. “No, really, it’s not your fault, I never said anything because …,” Margaret blinked rapidly a few times, “it was too hard to talk about and then I didn’t know how to tell you. I hope you won’t be upset that I didn’t tell you before. I … ”

Margaret closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes and said, “Fred … Fred is my brother, well, half-brother.” She saw the shock on Edith’s face, and shock and something else on Fran’s face. “But we didn’t grow up together. We just found each other a few months ago, after the accident.” Both Edith and Fran knew there had been an accident, but Margaret had never spoken in any detail.

“I grew up as an only child, on a farm. Well, we never had any animals, we just lived where a farmer’s family had lived before. It was just the three of us, my parents and me, and we never had visitors, never saw the neighbors. I never went to school a single day in my life until I came here, my parents taught me at home.” Margaret watched them, gauging their reactions, waiting to see if she should say more. 

“Margaret, that sounds wonderful,” Edith shrieked. “I went to parochial school and I hated it - the uniforms, the discipline, the homework, the nuns. What I wouldn’t have given to be able to stay home every day. Of course, my mother would never have been able to teach me any math or science, but she is great with literature. Wow, what a life!”

Margaret laughed out loud, which startled both of them. “Edith, I never had any friends. I bet you wouldn’t have liked that. You have so many friends here, after just a month, I can’t believe it. I’m so shy of people, because I never left home without my parents, ever. That doesn’t sound so great, does it? The only friends I have are you two and Fred’s friends.” She sighed, and then they heard the intercom, telling them the pizza had arrived.

While Fran and Edith were eating the pizza, Edith asked Margaret how she had convinced her parents to let her come to university when they had never let her go to school before. “I mean, really, they must be freaking that you are out of their sight for the first time. They haven’t even come to visit you yet, have they? What prompted the huge change of heart?”

“The accident.” Margaret hesitated, but only briefly. She took a deep breath. “My parents were both killed in the accident this summer. I don’t have any family now except Fred.” Margaret looked down at her hands, fiddling with her empty yogurt container, trembling as she finally told them. “He and Uncle Adam found me in the hospital and took me home with them. I don’t know what I would have done without them.” The last was said in a shaky whisper as a single tear slid down her cheek. There, I’ve finally told. I feel … relieved. She looked up at Fran and Edith, and saw tears on their cheeks too. She smiled at them, and they all hugged. The wall between them had crumbled completely, and they talked until the early morning hours.

***

“Fran, what in the world did you buy? Do you have any money left in your account for the month?” John was on his way to the office to check on a computer problem when he saw them coming out of a clothing store. Nick Higgins was trailing behind them carrying at least six bags. Margaret and Fran had been talking and laughing so much that they were oblivious to people around them. Margaret had literally walked right into John, and he had to grab her around the waist quickly before she fell over. He stood her upright, noticing again how thin she was when his arm was around her. And how good she smelled.

“Hi, Margaret. Better be careful there. Not everyone is going to be able to keep you from bouncing on the sidewalk.” Margaret blushed and looked away from John.

“John, I didn’t spend a penny. Well, not quite true, lots of sales, so I did get a couple of tops. But almost all of this is for Margaret. She didn’t really have any clothes, so we’ve plundered the shops and wait till you see the fashion show we’re putting on tonight.” Fran stopped, seeing the horrified look on Margaret’s face. “Don’t worry, Margaret, I was just teasing John with the idea of seeing a gorgeous young woman model clothes for him.”

“Hey, wait, I like the idea. Why not show me the clothes?” John said with a grin, raising his eyebrows.

Margaret blushed and Fran said, “John, you’re my brother, stop acting like a dirty old man.” With that Fran and Margaret both giggled and walked away, chattering again. Nick grinned smugly at John as he walked off after them, having seen the girls model most of the clothes already when they tried them on. John stared after them, having totally forgotten what he was doing in the middle of town this afternoon.


	10. Dinner with the Thorntons

The next Sunday John met Fran at her dorm for coffee before driving them both home for the big dinner. Hannah had insisted that Fran bring a roommate for Sunday dinner. It had been some weeks since Fran had moved out, and Hannah was adamant that she meet the young women Fran was living with. It was really an inspection, and Fran knew her mother would say something to embarrass her. She’d already warned both Edith and Margaret, and they both told her not to worry about it. It seemed that Margaret was going to be the one inspected, as Edith’s parents were in town to visit.

“Fran, is Margaret here?” John asked in a very low voice.

“Yes, but I think she’s still sleeping. Why?”

“Well, I just wanted to talk a bit before dinner, about a couple of things.” John kept his voice down, he certainly didn’t want Margaret to know they were talking about her. “I saw Margaret at the pool one night not too long ago. Fran, does she eat? I mean, Mother will notice if she sits at the table and just moves her food around. I’m afraid she might start a lecture on anorexia once she sees Margaret.”

“John! Margaret is not anorexic,” Fran whispered fiercely. “She eats all the time, small amounts, but every couple of hours she’s eating something. She told me when we were shopping that she gained three pounds last month, she was so proud of herself. She lost weight in hospital, she used to weigh lots more. Do you think Mother will be rude to her?” Fran looked worriedly at John. If John thought Margaret looked terrible, what would their mother think, or worse, what would she say?

“Yes, probably, but Aunt Belle will be there, and you said Fred is coming. That’s the other thing. Does Margaret ever go anywhere alone? She’s always got someone with her. There are a bunch of guys, friends of Fred I’m sure, who go almost everywhere with her, help her at the pool, walk to classes. Not all of them together of course, but there’s always at least one nearby, one even went shopping with you two earlier this week. What’s up with that?”

“I think Fred is sweet, being so attentive to Margaret. He’s … ” Fran spoke so quietly that John almost couldn’t hear her. He suddenly looked questioningly at her.

“Fran? What are you thinking? Are you fond of Fred?” John was worried. He didn’t want Fran to get hurt, or to alienate a roommate by falling for her boyfriend.

“No, no.” Fran blushed, upset for letting those feelings show, especially in front of her brother. She knew he would worry. “When he’s with Margaret, he doesn’t have time for anyone else. I know that. It’s just … ,” Fran shook her head and looked at John. “They’re not boyfriend/girlfriend, John. Really. They don’t, they have a … different relationship. Fred and Margaret … well … .”

“Fran, are you sure you’re not just seeing what you want to see there? I’ve seen the way Fred looks at her. He loves her, no question about it. And she loves him. The fact that they, well, aren’t intimate … that doesn’t matter.” John grinned. “Maybe they took one of those abstinence vows. Which means they’ll be in bed together in no time, probably.” And then he looked sternly at Fran and growled, “Although all of you are far too young for that kind of thing, you know.”

Fran smiled at John’s attempt at humor, and was sorry that she couldn’t tell him about Fred. Margaret had confided in them, but Fran wouldn’t tell anyone else. Margaret had told her and Edith that Uncle Adam and Fred had left it entirely up to her when she told people about the accident and her family. It had taken Margaret a long time to begin to feel comfortable around so many people, to begin to understand how other young people related to each other. She said Fred wanted her to wait a while longer before stepping away from his and his friends’ protection. Fran and Edith had told Margaret not to worry, what she told them would stay with them.

Both finished their coffee in silence. John was worried about Fran, wondering if she was setting herself up for a bad fall, thinking of Fred in that way. And Fran was regretting letting her growing feelings be seen so easily. She had always confided in John, but Fran had never had a boyfriend. They’d had talks about boys, plenty of them, but there had never been any particular boy Fran could relate the talks to. Until now, and her brother didn’t know Fred was ‘available’.

***

Margaret had felt nervous meeting Fran and John’s mother; she’d heard that Mrs. Thornton could be a bit judgmental with their friends. Margaret was wearing new clothes, and hoped Mrs. Thornton would think she looked nice. Margaret had insisted on buying everything a bigger size than Fran thought she should. She reasoned that she was still gaining weight, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to venture out, much less look anyone in the eye, if she thought people were looking at her … what was it Fran said? … so called charms.

Fred told her she looked great, but Fred always thought she looked good, even when she was wearing her ‘farm clothes’, as Edith and Fran now called them. But John and Mrs. Sullivan had both complimented her on her appearance today, making her blush, but pleasing her all the same. She wore a small white tee with a dark green v-neck sweater which felt soft and warm, unlike her scratchy old sweaters. She had to wear a belt with her charcoal pants, but she just couldn’t buy the ones Fran said fit her the best. She thought they showed the contours of her bottom too much and she’d been almost too embarrassed to come out of the dressing room in them. She thought Fran had been really patient with her, and they compromised on size and coverage to satisfy both of them.

Fred helped Margaret to her seat at the dining table and sat down next to her, squeezing her hand. Hannah had already noticed how attentive he was, and was not pleased. If Fran’s roommate had a boyfriend, Fran might think of getting one, and everyone knew what that could lead to. She was having none of it.

“Fred, Fran tells me you have a band. Had any gigs lately?” Aunt Belle had seen the hand holding and decided to jump in before Hannah could start the inquisition.

“Well, Mrs Sullivan, we have our first paid job next month at The Pig’s Bladder, the first weekend in November.” He saw Hannah’s look of disgust at the name. “Sorry, Mrs Thornton, I guess I shouldn’t have mentioned the name at the table.” He looked back at Aunt Belle. “There are three of us, friends since grade school. We’re a bit nervous, but Margaret will be there, she’s our good luck, so fingers crossed.” Fred grinned at Margaret and squeezed her hand again. “I’m the front man, Nick is on drums and Guy is on guitar. We’re hoping this will lead to other things, but at least it’s a start for us.”

“I was a singer when I was younger, you know.” Hannah raised her eyebrows when Aunt Belle said that. “That’s how I met my husband, in a nightclub.”

“Belle, I don’t think this is appropriate conversation for young people,” Hannah said, frowning at her sister.

“Nonsense. It was a perfectly respectable place, I was paid to sing, and nothing else,” she said with a conspiratorial wink at the young people, “and I met the man of my dreams there. How wonderful a job is that? I had a steady job at a single club for the last three years before I was married, there was a small band, we worked five nights a week, and the pay was pretty good, although for some reason, the Wednesday night crowd were lousy tippers. So Fred, watch yourself if the owner asks you to play only in the middle of the week.” 

“We always had a good crowd on the weekends, but our most committed audience was the military. The owner of the club had been in the military and if anyone came in in uniform, the drinks were cheaper. Word spread easily and half our audience on some nights were in uniform. Always polite, no one was ever allowed to get out of hand. Oh, the memories.”

“You should have seen the dresses I wore! I know you could never tell now, too much of my own home cooking, but I had a gorgeous figure back in the day. I think your Uncle Andrew was smitten by my curves well before he discovered my winning personality,” she laughed heartily. Aunt Belle paused for a sip of wine, and Hannah, wanting to change the subject, took a deep breath.

“Margaret, tell me about your family. Where do you come from?”

“Well, Mrs Thornton, um, … I grew up in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. Do you know that area?” Margaret wasn’t good at deception, she’d been taught to always answer questions from adults directly, but any question about her family was going to make her very uncomfortable.

Aunt Belle thought she saw someone in need of rescue, although she didn’t know why, so she spoke up. “Margaret, what an incredible coincidence. I lived on a farm in Lancaster County for twelve years before coming here. My Andrew retired from the military and wanted to settle someplace without a lot of people and industry. After we settled there, I was amazed at the number of retired military living in the area. Some of them, well, they seemed to think they weren’t retired. Andrew didn’t get caught up in that kind of thing. We had ten acres, a few animals for Andrew to look after. It’s a wonderful area of the country to live.”

“There was a very good community theatre group, and I belonged to the local choral group for years. Did you take advantage of the library system there? I could get any book in the world in no time, it seemed. I loved my life there, it was wonderful, until Andrew got sick.” There was a small smile on Aunt Belle’s face as she was remembering her husband and her prior life, and then she frowned. “What did you say your last name was, dear?”

“Hale, Mrs Sullivan.”

“And your parents’ names?”

Margaret bit her lower lip, and glanced briefly at Fred. “Richard and Maria Hale, Mrs Sullivan.” She knows, she lived there. The accident must have been in the papers. John and Fran saw the distress on her face, and Fred held her hand under the table. The only one in the room who seemed to be oblivious to Margaret’s discomfort now was Hannah.

“And what does your father do, Margaret? Is he in business? Have your parents visited you here since you started classes?” asked Hannah, ignoring the looks she was getting from John and Fran.

Margaret abruptly stood up from the table, saying, “Excuse me. I need the bathroom.” She moved out of the room as quickly as she could. Hannah looked around at no one in particular, and said, “Well, she seems a bit flighty to me. Hard to even have a conversation with her. And she is disgustingly thin. Fran, don’t even think about … ”

Hannah didn’t get a chance to say another word. John saw a flash of shock and then anger on Fred’s face and decided he’d better be the first to speak up. “Mother, there is nothing flighty about Margaret. And I simply can’t believe what you just said about her size. Fran told you that Margaret had been in an accident. Well, she lost weight, she’s trying very hard to put it back on, and she needs support, not criticism. I’m just relieved that our guest didn’t hear that remark, but I think you could apologize to Fred, as he was upset by it.” John looked at Fred, who acknowledged John’s comments. Hannah didn’t say a word.

Margaret came back into the dining room a few minutes later, and sat down, saying quietly, “Sorry.”

“Perfectly all right, Margaret dear, my sister’s cooking does that to me, too, sometimes,” Belle said. John and Fran laughed. Hannah huffed, but said nothing.

Mrs Thornton said very little else to Margaret that afternoon. The talk at the table focused on Fran’s classes, John’s teaching and Aunt Belle’s settling into life in a new place. “John, did you know there is a little choral group in town? They give concerts twice a year. I think I will see what it takes to join. The group I belonged to at home was great fun, and I think I might enjoy doing it here.”

“I did know about them, Aunt Belle. I’ve seen the notices for their rehearsals in the local paper. Might be a fun night out for you every couple of weeks,” John said. Wish she could convince Mother to get out more. Maybe with time.

Fred and Margaret took their leave as soon as they thought it was polite. “Thank you very much for dinner, Mrs Thornton. We’d love to stay, but we have to meet Fred’s father in just twenty minutes.” Margaret stood in front of Hannah and deliberately lied to an adult for the first time in her life. And she wasn’t struck by lightning - surprise!


	11. A Debut

The sign in front of The Pig’s Bladder said it was Party Night with the Offsides Boys. It was the first night of their paid job and Fred, Nick and Guy were nervous. They’d told all their friends to come, even though very few of them were old enough to drink. They could order food, and that would mollify the proprietor somewhat. They were booked for one night for certain, and if the feedback from patrons was good, they would be there for two more nights.

Fred, Nick, Guy and Margaret had gone to the bar the weekend before, just to check it out, the men said. They wanted to see what the clientele were like and what the owner was like as well when there was live entertainment. They thought the band that was playing that night was absolutely awful, and no one was paying any attention to them. The whole experience made them nervous about their own debut. 

“Margaret, what do you think? Do you like this band? Do you think we’re better?” asked Nick. Fred just rolled his eyes at Nick. Nick was a very laid back sort, just under six feet tall, blonde hair, muscular but a bit soft. He had the look of someone who enjoyed his mother’s cooking. Margaret thought he looked a bit like a teddy bear. Fred loved him like a brother, but he wasn’t the sharpest tack in the box.

“Nick, you know Margaret doesn’t know anything about pop music. She’s never been to any of our rehearsals, so how could she say we’re better? But, we are better, that drummer can’t keep the beat, and the guitar player knows only one chord. We’ll be fine.” Fred finished his sandwich. “Ready to go?”

Margaret hadn’t said a word the entire time they’d been there. She had never been in a bar before, even one that masqueraded as a pub. It was dark inside, but the waitress had been friendly, no one was fighting or cursing, even at the pool tables, so … She guessed bars had changed since the times her father had been in them and said they were an unfit place for young women. He had been annoyed when Margaret had asked why bars were fit for young men but not for young women, and had gruffly said, “Men are different. Never forget that, Margaret.”

Fred told Margaret Friday morning that Bill would pick her up that night, because the band would be going early to set up. Margaret told him that wasn’t necessary; she was going with Fran and Edith and David. She would be fine on her own tonight.

Margaret hadn’t told Fred what had happened the first time she’d been on her own, just a week earlier. She didn’t keep it from him deliberately so much as dismiss it as nothing in her own mind. It had disturbed her, unsettled her, but she thought she was being foolish, and so didn’t tell anyone. 

Margaret had come out of class one morning and no one was waiting for her. That was the first time that had happened and Margaret stood at the building steps for a minute, not sure what to do. She’d never walked to or from class alone. This is silly. Fran and Edith don’t have people walking them to all their classes and they are fine. I’m fine too. Margaret set off in the direction of her dorm, smiling to herself at the idea of being on her own. 

As she turned onto a walkway on the far side of the building, she realized someone had come along side her and she turned her head to see a man she didn’t know. He smiled when he saw her look at him, and said, “Margaret, how was your class?”

“Fine, thank you, the lecture was very interesting.” Margaret smiled back tentatively. Maybe he’s a professor I don’t recognize. Maybe he knows Uncle Adam.

“Margaret, what a coincidence that we should meet like this. I was a good friend of your father’s. I was so sorry to hear about the accident, Margaret. It must be very hard for you, being so alone.” He paused, watching her. “Your father was very kind to lend me several very interesting books, and I never got the chance to return them to him.” He paused again, watching for her reaction. Margaret gave him a tentative smile, wondering if she should be talking to him. “Just by chance, I have those books in my car. I would really like you to have them. Why don’t you just walk with me to my car and I can get them for you?”

He took her elbow and gently turned her, so that they were now walking toward one of the parking areas. Margaret was unsure about going with him, but he was a friend of her father’s, so she felt she should. Just as they neared the lot, Margaret heard someone yelling her name and she turned to see Nick running toward her. She stopped and waited for him. He was totally out of breath when he got to her, gasping his apologies for being so late to meet her. Margaret turned to introduce him to her father’s friend, and found he had disappeared.

***

“Fran, you really aren’t old enough to be going to bars. If Mother finds out, she’ll yank you out of university faster than you can blink.” John was losing this battle and he knew it. He was trying to be the big brother here and protect his sister, but she was going to go to the Offsides Boys debut no matter what he said and they both knew it.

“Margaret will be there, and Edith and David, and I’m going too. I won’t be the only one to miss Fred’s … the band’s first ever paid performance. You know I won’t drink, so what are you worried about?” Fran wasn’t even looking at John, she was rummaging in her closet to find what she wanted to wear. “So, if you’re so concerned, why don’t you come too? I don’t really mind being seen with you, even if you are ancient.” Fran laughed as John pretended to take a swing at her. “Some of my friends think you’re cute, and want introductions.” John raised his eyebrows at that, but Fran just laughed and wouldn’t give him any names. “Wait in the lounge while I get dressed. I have a new outfit for tonight that I want to show you.”

John had just sat on the sofa when Margaret walked in. She didn’t see him as she stood leaning back against the closed door, her hands jammed in her jacket pockets. She looked sad, completely lost in thought, and John didn’t want to disturb her by greeting her. She must have gained a bit more, looking a little less angular. Her hair is beautiful, those soft short curls. She is really quite lovely … John suddenly shook his head at his own thoughts, and Margaret looked over and saw him.

“Oh, John, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you. Good evening.” Her voice caught, and he saw her bite her lower lip.

“Are you all right, Margaret? What’s wrong?” John stood up and walked over to where Margaret was still standing at the door.

She looked up at him and he could see the tears in her eyes. “It was my Father’s birthday yesterday. I just remembered,” she whispered, as the tears started to slide down her cheeks. John reached out without thinking and took her in his arms to comfort her, holding her close and slowly moving his hands over her back. After just a moment, John stepped back from her, feeling, well, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling, confusion definitely, and something else, and he just knew instinctively that he should step back. What’s the matter with you? You’re a fool, she’s not interested in you, she loves Fred, no matter what Fran said.

“Margaret, you can call your father now. He’ll be so glad to hear from you, he won’t care that it’s a day later.” When he said that, Margaret started to really cry. John walked her over to the sofa to sit down. He kept one arm around her shoulder, and she leaned against him, crying softly with her face against his chest. Slowly, she stopped crying, just heaving big sighs and sniffing.

“I’m sorry, I … I was so upset that I had forgotten.” Margaret looked up at John and he was startled to realize that he had never noticed the deep green of those eyes before, well, green and red right now. She looked so sad. 

“All right, you can’t call. Well, I’m sure he knows you love him ... ” John stopped because he could see her eyes filling with tears again. “Tell me what else is wrong, Margaret. Please.”

Margaret sat, blinking back the new tears. She was looking at him, he could see she was thinking about telling him something that was important to her. She took a deep breath, and looked down at her hands. 

“My father, my parents … they were killed this summer, in that accident. So … I can’t call.” She quickly covered her mouth with one hand, as if she had said a terrible thing and something worse might come out if she didn’t stop it. And then her hand dropped and she just sat there, staring, blinking, and slowly she leaned her head back against John’s shoulder. She didn’t see the shock register on John’s face at what she had said. 

They sat that way for a few minutes, both lost in thought, Margaret thinking about how much her life had changed since the accident, John thinking about the young girl - young woman - leaning against him, and how much he missed his own father, having found him again such a short time before his death. And now Margaret didn’t have her father or mother. Then she sat up straight, suddenly realizing she was leaning against him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Margaret stood and slowly took off her jacket, walking towards her room.

“Margaret, don’t apologize. I’m so sorry that happened. It must have been awful for you. I’m glad you have Fred.” He smiled at her. 

Margaret went into her room to change for their evening out. She came out a few minutes later, and walked to the refrigerator. Just then Fran’s door opened. 

“John, oh, Margaret, what do you think of this outfit for tonight?” Fran strutted into the lounge in a black leather skirt so short she wouldn’t be able to sit, a tiny, tight white t-shirt with a rude saying on it, thigh high red boots and at least a dozen bangles on each arm. John’s jaw dropped and Margaret smothered a giggle.

“Fran, there is no way in hell you are leaving this suite in that outfit,” John exclaimed. He jumped up from the sofa and pointed an outstretched arm to her door. “Back into your room and change into something decent, right now.” Margaret and Fran burst into laughter and John looked from one to the other, as it dawned on him that he’d been the butt of a joke. He wasn’t angry, just relieved, although he realized he was being set up to accept an outfit that he would have objected to before seeing this one. “Change. Now. And the skirt had better be twice as long, and no rude sayings on the shirt. Good God, if your mother could see you now.”

***

Margaret, Fran, John, David and Edith all sat together at a small table in the middle of the room, just off the tiny dance floor. John was the only one old enough to drink, but he decided not to have anything with alcohol. They had ordered food and were just waiting for the band to set up and start playing.

Fred stepped to the microphone, introduced Nick and Guy, and then looking at Margaret, told the audience that their performance tonight was dedicated to their best girl, Margaret. She blushed as everyone in the pub turned to look in her direction, but she was proud of Fred and fought the urge to hide herself. Fran gave her a hug and they all applauded and settled back to hear the music. By the time the Boys finished their third song, the crowd was cheering and applauding. A success!

***

John returned from the men’s room and saw that Fran and Margaret weren’t at the table. Probably went to the Ladies’. Why do women always go together? I can just see another guy asking me if I want to go to the toilets with him. The band had announced a break, and the Boys were in another room talking about what they were going to play during the next set. After sitting for a while, John realized that quite some time had gone by and he still hadn’t seen Fran and Margaret. He interrupted the clinch that Edith and David were in to ask where the others were and Edith pointed to the pool room. John was out of his chair quickly, hurrying to the dark room on the other side of the pub.

As John’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, he saw three pool tables, each with its own overhead light, which cast very little light beyond the edge of the table. There were more than a dozen people gathered around the table farthest from the door, and he headed in that direction. He was relieved to recognize two escorts, and realized that he felt more relaxed about Fran on her own at school, knowing those young men were around so much. Fran and Margaret spent quite a bit of time together, so the young men were looking out for Fran as well as Margaret.

When John finally saw who was wielding the cue stick at the table, his jaw dropped. Margaret had a small smile on her face as she banked the last ball on the table into the pocket. She turned to put the cue stick back and John saw a man walk up behind her, put his hands on her waist, and lift her to stand on the bench that ran against the wall. Then he turned Margaret around to face him. He was very big, tattoos covering every visible bit of skin on his huge arms, leather boots and pants, bandana on his shaved head, small gold earring. John started to push forward through the crowd, wondering why the escorts weren’t doing anything, when he heard the man say, “Margaret, come on, let’s play again. I want a chance to get even with you. Please.”

Margaret put her small hand on his arm, smiling at him. “Vic, I have friends waiting for me, so I can’t stay. And thank you again for the offer of a ride on your bike, I’ll think about it. I hope the Boys play here again, if so, I’m sure we’ll see each other.” John watched in amazement as Margaret lifted her hand and touched the big man gently on the cheek, then stepped down and walked out of the room with Fran.

When they were sat down again, John asked Margaret where she learned to play pool. She just looked at him with those big green eyes. “My father taught me at home when I was studying physics. It’s just physics, isn’t it, John?” she said, smiling, as if everyone knew that.


	12. The Pool

Margaret continued her visits to the pool, even after her rehab program ended. She liked the feeling of lightness in the water, although she didn’t kid herself that she was a swimmer. She had never even owned a bathing suit until after the accident. There had been nowhere to swim near home, even if her parents would have let her take lessons or swim with anyone else. 

Margaret grimaced as she thought what her parents would have said about her swimsuit. When her physical therapist told her part of her rehab would be in the swimming pool at the hospital, and that she should bring her suit to the next session, she went to Adam. Adam bought the suit, style and size recommended by the therapist. It was a plain black racing suit, with the front almost up to her throat and a very low back. Margaret was shocked when she looked at herself in the mirror, and emerged from the locker room completely covered in a large towel. But her therapist had coaxed her into the water and she found the freedom she felt in the water made her forget that just a thin layer of material was covering just part of her.

It was mid-November, less than two weeks before Thanksgiving, and Guy had been going to the pool with her two nights a week for the past two months. He always brought study materials to the pool, never joining her in the water, just keeping a watch on her as she used a kick board to move from one end back to the other and repeat, over and over. Margaret never had the time or energy for swim lessons when she was taking therapy, but thought she ought to schedule them now that she wanted to swim by herself. 

Margaret also had decided she was ready to go to the pool alone. Guy had a heavy course schedule, and now that the band was starting to get jobs, his spare time was taken up with extra practice sessions. Margaret felt it was unfair to ask him to keep giving up so much time to mind her. She told Guy it was someone else’s turn to be her pool buddy, but she didn’t tell him that she wasn’t going to ask anyone else.

Margaret had started to feel foolish, always having someone with her, as if she were a child. None of the other women needed a minder, and she thought it was time she struck out on her own. She had told Fred her feelings about this, and he disagreed, saying that his friends enjoyed going places with her. He wanted her to wait, just a little longer. 

Well, Margaret decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She could be careful on her own. She had slipped out of the suite without telling anyone she was going for a swim tonight. She had been doing this for two weeks now, quite late at night, and was feeling very confident on her own. She slipped into the empty pool, grabbed her kick board and started her laps.

John had had an annoying week. He’d had to go to the office three times for a consistently stubborn computer problem, and it was finally discovered to be an intermittent power interruption. A new power supply had cleared up that problem, but he was annoyed at how much time it had wasted. He’d gotten three phone messages from his mother complaining about never hearing from him or from Fran, which was not true. She was just chafing at having strangers in the house regularly. Belle was making more friends in town every day, and she often invited people over for afternoon tea. And there had been a leak in the roof in the building where he taught one of his classes, and his classroom had been unusable the entire week. 

He was really looking forward to a late night swim. He wanted the time to think about his personal life, which seemed to be dead. As usual, there was no one in the locker room when he got there. It was Friday night, and the students didn’t usually waste their Friday nights swimming. He changed into his suit and then realized in his haste to leave his apartment, he’d forgotten his goggles. He didn’t even know why he had taken them out of the gym bag; just another absent minded action that he couldn’t explain.

He walked out to the pool and, at first, saw no one as he glanced around. Then he heard the splashing, near the deep end. Someone isn’t swimming very well. He saw arms reaching, but not in a swimming motion. He saw a head dip under the water, then come back up, and heard a gasp. Uh-oh, that one’s in trouble. He hurried to the far end of the pool and saw the head go under again. John slipped into the pool and quickly swam over to the person struggling to surface again. He put his arms around … her, and pulled her up.

”Take it easy, I’ve got you. Margaret!” He was shocked to find Margaret in his arms. She threw her arms around his neck as she gasped for air. She had looked startled, but he couldn’t see her eyes now because she was clinging so tightly to him, her cheek pressed against his.

“Margaret, calm down, I’ve got you. Loosen your grip a bit ... . Margaret, listen to me, calm down, you’re all right now.” He breathed a little easier as he felt her arms relax a bit, although her breathing was still ragged and she was coughing. “Margaret, you have to let go of my neck.” She whimpered and tightened her grasp again, afraid to let go. “Margaret, please, I won’t let anything happen to you. But it will be easier to help you if you’re not strangling me.”

Margaret pulled back at that last comment, with a worried look on her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, John. I was just afraid of going under again.” 

John grinned. “You didn’t hurt me, but it will take a lot longer to get out of the pool if I can’t move or breathe.” John put his arm around her waist and slowly moved them both to shallower water. As he did, he saw the kick board floating by the side of the pool. She must have lost her grip on that. Why is she alone? She’s never alone, anywhere. 

John felt the bottom of the pool and stood upright. Margaret felt him standing and tried to stand herself, but found it was still too deep for her as the water went over her head. She immediately grabbed for John again, put her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, and hung on, her body plastered against his. John just stood for a moment, blinking rapidly, his thoughts jumbled, his body … . She’s gained a bit more weight, in all the right places, god, she feels good. John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Time out, John! She’s a kid, get hold of yourself. John walked several feet to shallower water with Margaret clinging to him. Doesn’t feel like a kid, not making me feel like a kid either. Better not go too shallow. 

“Margaret, I’m sure you can stand here. Margaret, … ” She leaned back from him, looking at him with a strange expression on her face. “You can unwrap your legs now, put your feet down.” Margaret slowly unwrapped her legs from John’s torso, and put her feet down, still keeping her arms tight around his neck, and then he saw her smile as she felt her feet touch the pool bottom. John reached up and took her hands in his and gently took them away from his neck. They both stared at the other, neither moving, neither saying anything. 

“Are you all right?” he asked. Margaret nodded yes, but didn’t say anything, still staring. “Why are you alone? Where is your escort?”

Margaret frowned, “My what?”

“Well, Guy, or one of the other friends who is always with you, everywhere you go. I’ve never seen you away from the dorm without someone else before tonight. You always have someone helping you.” John was watching her face, and he saw her wince when he said ‘helping.’ “I can’t believe Fred approves of you being here alone, he doesn’t know, does he?” Margaret shook her head no.

“Margaret, you know you should never swim alone, it’s dangerous, and if I hadn’t come in when I did … ” John looked down at her and saw a tear slide down her cheek as her lips quivered. He put his hands on her shoulders lightly. “Margaret, I don’t mean to scold you, but you could have drowned tonight. Think how sad we would all have been. What would Fred do without you?” What would I do without you, John thought, and was surprised at himself.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to do something on my own, I wanted to … I never get to do anything alone, because everyone … everyone knows I’m helpless, hopeless …” she said, her voice catching. She shook her head, then looked up at him. He saw a look of misery. “And they were right, weren’t they? I can’t take care of myself.”

“Margaret, give it time. You picked the wrong activity to declare your independence. Good grief, you don’t even know how to swim! Being here alone, relying on that board, you’re smarter than that.” As he talked, he suddenly took a closer look at her. Her lips were blue and she was starting to shake. 

“Margaret, you have to get out of the pool now. You’re cold. How long have you been in the water? Where’s that giant towel you usually have? The one that covers you and the swim team together?” At last, John saw a small smile on her face. John grabbed a towel and quickly secured it around his own waist as they stepped out of the pool, then wrapped her up in her towel. He rubbed her arms and back to dry them and help warm her as they sat side by side on a bench, thinking back to what he thought when he first saw Guy doing the same thing.

She had her arms wrapped around herself, and she was turned towards him. He saw that she was staring at him, seeming lost in thought. He is nice to me. Because of Fran, not because of me.… I like the way he looks at night, when he hasn’t shaved since morning. His whiskers must grow much faster than Father’s or Fred’s. … I wonder what they feel like. Without thinking about it, Margaret slowly brought a hand up and touched John’s jaw, drawing two fingers along his jaw line and feeling his stubble, her eyes wide.

“Margaret?” He was startled that she had touched him, she was usually so shy around him. But he liked the sensation of her fingers on his face, the closeness of her, the sight of her green eyes on him. He felt his heart beating faster, his breathing quicken and he suddenly felt warm in the cool air. Watch yourself, John, she’s as innocent as they come. This doesn’t mean anything, just childish curiosity. As he watched, he saw her begin to lean her head towards his, looking at his mouth. He smiled, she seemed to be studying him.

That feels so … rough, prickly on my fingers. I wonder if it hurts him when he shaves?… He has beautiful blue eyes. He has a long nose, I wonder where that goes when … He’s smiling at me, how does he do that, how does he make just that one side of his mouth go up when he smiles? … His lips … they look like … an oasis … in the stubble, soft … Margaret leaned closer to him, watching his mouth.

“Margaret?” He raised his voice - she had leaned her head so close to him, she looked as if she were going to kiss him! His voice startled her. She blinked twice and looked into his eyes, blushing, then put her head down. What am I doing? What was I thinking? He’s Fran’s brother, and he thinks I’m a little girl.

“Please don’t tell Fred ... about me swimming alone,” she said softly, looking up at him with those big green eyes. She slowly stood and with one last look at him, walked towards the women’s locker room.

John just stood staring after her. What just happened here? My head is telling me I’ve been talking to a child, my body is telling me … John dropped the towel and slid back into the pool, starting the first of countless laps, as he thought and thought about that dead personal life.

So, what next? When are you going to get your own life on track? It can’t be all work, all the time, the only break having dinner with your Mother and Aunt Belle or checking on your baby sister. Why … ? 

John knew exactly what had started him on this critique of his life again. He had received another wedding invitation, another classmate from college had found love and would have a celebration. John had dated a few women after college, but there had never been any chemistry. He had been disappointed, but he wasn’t willing to settle for less than love. His current social life was almost non-existent. It wasn’t that he wasn’t trying, but he simply hadn’t found anyone he was attracted to enough to make the effort.

What’s wrong with me? Why can’t it happen to me? I’m surrounded by women here at the college, there must be someone who could love me and I could love. He thought back to what had just … almost … happened tonight. Someone nearer my own age, someone not already in love with someone else. Someone … she is beautiful, and so … stop! Forget it, she’s in love with someone else.

John swam that night until he was too exhausted to think any more.


	13. Unwelcome Escorts

“Margaret, I’m so sorry that my mother was rude to you.” Fran had been embarrassed by her mother’s comment about Margaret’s weight, and was sure Fred would have told her about it by now. Fran had wanted to invite Margaret and the Bells to the Thorntons’ for Thanksgiving, but she wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. What would her mother come up with next? Aunt Belle told her to go ahead and invite them, she loved to cook big dinners and didn’t get the chance to do it very often any more. She told Fran not to worry about Hannah, Belle would take care of her.

“Fran, it’s really all right, stop worrying. You warned me ahead of time that your mother would ask questions, so I thought I was prepared. I guess it was foolish of me not to expect questions about my family, I should have been ready for that. I think your Aunt Belle must know, she seemed to be remembering our name. It’s okay, it took me a long time, but I am getting used to people knowing about it. It’s just … when people find out about the accident, about my parents, the look in their eyes, they see me, they treat me differently.” Margaret said that Fred and Adam wanted to have a traditional holiday at home, as this was Margaret’s first year with them, but she would tell them about the invitation and perhaps they could join them for tea late in the day.

Margaret was feeling wonderful. She felt stronger every day, and had been chafing at having so much help when she felt she was ready to do everything for herself again. She had gained back half the weight she’d lost and needed no help at all in getting around campus carrying her own book bag. She hadn’t told Fred about the incident at the pool, she was too embarrassed, but she had stopped going alone at night. But she had talked to Fred again about being on her own. He had said his friends enjoyed being with her, but she was right, it was now her decision. If she felt she was strong enough to be on her own, then he wouldn’t argue.

Fred and Adam had never spoken to Margaret about the mystery man who had asked about her at Slickson’s office, they didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily. Nothing had ever happened, no other contact had been made as far as they knew, and they now felt that nothing was amiss. They’d agreed that Margaret was strong enough now and it was certainly safe enough for her to make her way to classes by herself, so the escorts began to accompany Margaret only on days that their classes coincided with hers, with the exception of Guy. Guy continued to meet Margaret every morning she had class and walk her part way before heading in the opposite direction for his own class.

“Margaret, how about Saturday afternoon? I know it’s the holiday weekend, but we aren’t playing until 7:00 that night, so we’ll have most of the afternoon. I’d like to take you out, just the two of us for a change, instead of Fred and half the soccer team. I thought we could take a picnic basket up to the lookout and just enjoy the day out.” Guy had been asking Margaret out for two weeks and she hadn’t said yes to them being alone yet, but he was hopefully persistent. He decided this morning’s walk to class was his best opportunity to ask again. The weather had held, but soon an outdoor picnic wouldn’t be practical, so this might be his last chance until Spring for this kind of date.

“Yes, Guy, Saturday sounds like a good day to go.” Margaret smiled at the astonished look on his face. “Why are you so surprised?” she laughed. “I told you I just wanted a little more time, and so, well, I’d really like to.” Margaret looked at the handsome young man standing next to her and thought of … someone else. He could be John’s younger brother, they look so much alike, except for the stubble, and those shoulders. At least Guy likes me. John doesn’t even know I’m alive except as Fran’s roommate. I’ve got to stop thinking about him. I have to concentrate on this sweet boy in front of me.

Guy told her he’d see her later in the day, then leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, smiling as he saw her blush. Guy walked off and Margaret turned and started walking toward the building where her class would be starting in ten minutes. She loved being on her own for short periods, feeling more like the other women on campus who went where they wanted, when they wanted, alone. She couldn’t help it, a grin spread across her face as she walked confidently towards her class.

Margaret felt rather than saw or heard someone walking right behind her. She turned and saw three men within two feet of her. Her eyes widened when she realized she had seen two of them before, at a restaurant the day of the accident and later when she was in hospital. The third one was the friend of her father’s, the one with the books in his car.

Jared’s father saw the recognition in Margaret’s eyes and reached out, taking her arm, steering her to a nearby bench and sitting down with her. “Margaret, I’m very happy to see you remember me and Jared. How have you been? I see you are recovering well from your injuries.”

Margaret looked at the three of them, shocked at seeing them here. “Mr. Boucher, uh, I didn’t expect to see you. I am much better, thank you. I am on my way … ”

“Margaret, we were so upset that we couldn’t find you after you left the hospital. Your father and I had talked about you quite a bit, you see, and I had promised that if anything ever happened to him, we would care for you. Well, you can imagine our distress when you disappeared. I’m sure it’s been very difficult for you the past months, knowing you were doing things that your mother and father disapproved of, living with men who were strangers to you, being here with all of these strangers every day. Jared and I have come to take you home. I’m sure you know how pleased your father would have been by that.”

Margaret blanched at his words. I know he’s right, Father would not like me being here. But … I’m happy here, I can’t go ‘home’ with them, they aren’t my family. Fred, Uncle Adam, they’re my family, I can’t leave them. “Mr. Boucher,” Margaret’s voice wavered as she started to speak, “I … I can’t leave with you. I have a class starting very soon and mustn’t be late. So if you will excuse me, please … ” Margaret’s voice trailed off as Mr. Boucher put his arm around her shoulder and held her where she was sitting. He leaned back and spoke quietly to Jared and the young man walked around the bench to sit, so that Margaret was between them. 

“Margaret, we really can’t wait until your class is over, we have a very long drive to get home. You shouldn’t be going to classes here anyway. I know your father didn’t want you to go to university. He told you that, surely?” Margaret silently nodded yes. “Very well, let’s get going before anyone bothers us.” Margaret didn’t move. She just sat clutching her book bag and looking left and right, as if looking for a way to escape.

Mr. Boucher physically lifted Margaret from the bench and said, “Margaret, we’ve got a van in the parking lot and we’ll be gone from here in no time. Jared’s mother is waiting for us at home, and is looking forward to being a mother to you now that your own mother is gone.” The three men started walking, propelling Margaret along between Jared and his father, the third man watching the people around them.

John’s routine on class days hadn’t changed since the semester began. He liked to relax in the faculty lounge before class. He was always in a certain chair at a certain time, always facing the window. Fifteen minutes before mid-morning classes started, on certain days, he would start glancing out the window. Within a couple of minutes, he would see her making her way to class. And he watched escorts appear from various directions, taking her book bag and walking her to class. The routine hadn’t changed for the longest time. Until recently. There had been no escort for at least half of the way over the last week. Starting to let go a bit, he thought.

Today was no different for John. It was just three days till Thanksgiving and he wondered if Fran would actually invite Margaret to their home for the holiday. She had talked about doing it, but was still embarrassed over what their mother had said about Margaret’s weight. Maybe I should suggest it? She doesn’t have family to go to. Well, she’s probably going to Fred and Adam’s house anyway. John smiled as he saw Margaret come into view. Guy was with her, as always, and they stopped to talk for a while and he saw Margaret smile. Guy leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, and John’s smile faded. Guy left and Margaret walked on alone.

That’s odd. John saw three men approach Margaret as she neared a bench and one of the older men took her arm and sat down with her, as the other men stood behind them. She never has more than one escort at a time for going to class. I don’t recognize any of them, and two of them definitely aren’t students. John, feeling distinctly uneasy, watched as the man talked to Margaret. He was too far away to see the expression on her face, but she seemed agitated, twisting around on the bench to look at the others. 

John took his cell phone out of his pocket and then just stood there, wondering whom he could call. They were only talking, it was a public place, but something just wasn’t right. He decided to try Fred. Do I have his number? No. Fran should have it. John called Fran; no answer. As the phone was ringing, John saw the man’s arm go around Margaret and he literally lifted her from the bench, the other man coming from behind the bench to walk with them. Uh-oh. Something is definitely wrong here. John stood, and started to move towards the door, keeping his eye on them as long as he was in the room.

As John came out of the building to see where they were going, he called campus security on his phone, saying suspicious strangers were on campus harassing a student, and giving their location. Then as he headed towards the fast disappearing group, he tried calling Fran again. He followed the three men as they walked quickly toward a car park behind the building, and John called out to Margaret as he hurried to get closer. The men heard him and one ran to a nearby van, opened the back doors and two of the men climbed in, pulling Margaret inside with them and shutting the doors, but not before John heard her cry out.

John ran in front of the van, where he saw a man behind the wheel. He heard the engine turn over and the man waved at him to move from in front of the vehicle. John held up his hand and shook his head, shouting that he needed to talk to the driver and to please get out. The van started forward, quickly moving right up to where John was standing. John realized he was going to be hit, so he jumped out of the way as the van picked up speed and headed toward the exit.

John stood there helplessly, watching the van drive out of the gates. His heart pounding, his hands shaking, he took out his phone again, and called 9-1-1.


	14. She's Gone

John just stood in the parking lot, gripping his phone, waiting for the police. He continued to shake as his thoughts were tumbling in his head. They literally took her away and I couldn’t do a thing. Why? What in the world happened here? Who were they? John opened his phone to call Fran, then stopped. What am I going to tell her? 

John quickly called Adam instead. He told him where he was and said he should come right away, it was about Margaret. The police pulled in and as they were talking to John in the parking lot, he saw Adam walking over to them. “Adam, she’s gone, Margaret’s gone. Three men put her in a van and drove off.”

He saw Adam blanch. “What are you talking about, John? Margaret wouldn’t go with anyone.” 

“From my vantage point, she didn’t go willingly, Adam,” John said.

Adam reached for his cell phone and called Fred. He spoke quietly for just a few seconds and hung up. “What happened? Who were they?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never seen any of them before. I saw Margaret walking to class alone, then these three guys came up to her and walked her over to a bench to talk. Then …” John stopped, another police officer was beckoning to him. John walked over and the officer asked him to point out the exact parking spot the van had been in and which lanes it had taken when leaving. The university had recently installed cctv in all parking lots and they wanted to get the correct tapes to view right away.

Fred came running across the lawn to where Adam was talking to another officer. “Dad, what happened? What did you mean, Margaret’s missing?” Adam could see shock and fear in Fred’s eyes. They had both thought she would be safe, and now …

***

Fred and Adam were at the police station, giving statements as to Margaret’s everyday routine, where she might have gone if she had gone with the men freely, any suspicious incidents prior to today. “Who are they? Why do they want … Dad, remember Margaret told us she had a visitor at the hospital? A family … wait ... She said she met them earlier on the day of the accident and then they came to the hospital, saying she was supposed to marry their son. Remember? But she never told us their name.” Fred ran his fingers through his hair, groaning.

“What else? What else? Of course, the man who asked for her at the lawyer’s office.” Adam gave the officer the details for Slickson’s office and told him about the stranger who had made an inquiry. “But we don’t know if that is related to today. There isn’t anything else. Margaret never talked to the neighbors where she lived, she didn’t have any friends. We don’t know about any other family, there was no one as far as we know. Her father, he was retired military, I don’t know if he kept up with any … colleagues.”

The interviewer was called from the room and when the door to the interview room opened, Fred and Adam were surprised to see Nick standing in the doorway. “Nick, what are you doing here? Why did the police call you?” Fred asked as Nick walked in.

“Fred, Professor Bell, they didn’t call me. I came when I heard what happened. Something happened early this month and I never … I was late after class one day and Margaret started back to the dorm alone. When I caught up to her, some man was talking to her over near one of the parking lots and he just disappeared when I ran up. Margaret said it was a friend of her father’s. She didn’t seem upset or anything, and I never thought to mention it. I’m sorry,” Nick said, his voice breaking.

“Nick, we didn’t know she was in danger. We thought she was safe, you’re not to blame for what these men have … ” Adam’s voice trailed off, all sorts of horrible scenarios flashing through his head. Now he was praying that this really was that same family wanting Margaret as a wife for their son, rather than any other possibility.

“Fred, what about the new phone you got Margaret? If her phone is turned on, we should be able to locate her, right?” Nick had turned to Fred, who was holding his head in his hands and just staring at the table, fighting back tears. 

“Yes, but she would have turned it off when she left the dorm for class. If she gets a chance to turn it on, we’ll be able to pick up a signal. I just hope she keeps her head and doesn’t just reach for it while they’re with her.”

***

Margaret’s thoughts were flying through her head so fast, she wasn’t sure she was actually thinking any more. She had protested as they walked to the van, she had almost shouted, saying she couldn’t and didn’t want to go with them. They ignored her, had literally swept her along and into the van and there had been no one close by who had come to help her. She had seen John in front of the van briefly, and then he had jumped out of the way as Mr Boucher accelerated to get away. She had sat trembling for the last forty minutes without saying a word, although Jared had tried to talk to her about the new house they would be living in after they got married, their new life, how happy she would be. 

Married? To someone who steals me away from my only family?... His mother wants to be my mother?... Should I tell them about Fred? Would it matter to them that I have a brother? Or would they say something awful about Mother?... We’re crossing the river … Maybe they live near where I used to live. How can that help me? I don’t know any people there, all of my friends are back at university … How can I get away?… I can’t reach the door, not with both of them back here with me. Could I jump out anyway, with him speeding so fast? … My phone! It’s in my pocket, but … it plays music when I turn it on. They would grab it away from me. … I’ll have to wait until I’m alone … What if they search me when we get there? … Where are they taking me?... We have to stop sooner … I have to be alone … where can I be alone?

“Excuse me, but I need to use a bathroom, Mr Boucher. I was going to use the toilet before class and of course, I never got the chance.” Margaret saw the frown on his face in the rear view mirror, and before he could say no, Margaret continued. “I’m sorry Mrs Boucher isn’t here, because she could help me, it’s a difficult time for me right now.” She looked at Jared and then quickly hid her face, hoping he would think she was embarrassed to be talking that way in front of him.

“Father, I think we’d better stop. Margaret, I’m sorry Mother isn’t here,” he smiled shyly at her.

Ten minutes later the van pulled off the highway and into the parking lot of a gas station, and Mr Boucher turned off the engine. He got out and came to the back of the van, and told Margaret he was going to have to search her bag. He was sorry, but until they were safe back at his home, they couldn’t take any chances. “Margaret, I don’t see any … feminine things in your bag,” he said with an edge to his voice.

“No sir, um, I ran out at the dorm and was going to buy something in the ladies’ before class. They should have a machine here in the ladies’ as well, so I’ll have to take some money in with me if you don’t want me to take my bag.” She kept as calm as she could. She could see people walking freely past the van, and wanted to cry out to them to help her, but didn’t know what these men would do if she did.

Margaret paled as Mr Boucher stared hard at her. He was looking at her trouser pocket. “Margaret, please take out whatever it is you have in that pocket.” He spoke quietly, but Margaret felt a threat behind the words. She reached into her pocket and took out a big wad of tissues, mumbling something about needing them if she couldn’t find something in the ladies’. He just nodded and told the other man to walk Margaret to the ladies’ and wait outside. 

When Margaret got inside, she turned on the water at the sink and flushed the toilet twice as she pulled her phone from the tissues, thankful that she had sniffles this morning, and pushed the power button. The man was knocking on the door before she got a signal, and when she came out, he went in to check for anything, any message, she might have left. “Back into the van, quickly please, Margaret.”

***

The captain in charge of the investigation phoned Adam an hour after they left the station. He wanted them to know the police were making progress and that Margaret’s cell phone had been turned on. He warned them not to call that number, but to call the police immediately if they received any calls. He didn’t tell him that it was possible that the men had discovered her phone and tossed it in someone else’s car. He also didn’t tell them that the cctv had given them a complete license plate. They knew the registered owner of the van, and were following up on that. Adam hung up the phone and he and Fred just looked at each other, not saying anything. All of the escorts had heard what happened and had come to Adam’s house to await news.

John had been interviewed for more than an hour by the police. He had more information than he had realized at the time. He had been able to tell them where the vehicle was registered, the first three letters on the plates, make and model of the van, color, general description of the men and their clothing. Then he spent almost an hour with a police sketch artist. He cursed the fact that he had been so far away that he never got a very good look at two of them. The driver’s face, however, was burned in his memory.

And John had gotten another shock. He told the police Margaret’s parents were dead and he knew of no other family, and the interviewer said they were getting information from her brother. “Brother? Margaret has a brother? Here?” John had asked. The interviewer had just moved on, not answering his questions. John got the answer to his questions an hour later when he sat with Fran during her police interview, and found his sister knew of Margaret’s brother, but had been unable to tell him. He also heard about a family that wanted Margaret to marry their son, but Fran didn’t know the family’s name either.

John tried to comfort Fran when he took her back to the suite late that afternoon. She was crying, so worried about Margaret that she couldn’t talk any more. “Fran, the police will find her. The men didn’t look as if they wanted to harm her.” John stopped. How in the world can I say that? When the story appeared on the evening news, the phone rang and John knew before he answered it that it was Hannah. She insisted John bring Fran home immediately, and for once, John didn’t disagree. He could pick Fran up in the morning for classes and meanwhile Hannah would be calmer with Fran within sight. John didn’t want Fran spending the night alone in the suite anyway. Edith was already busy packing; her parents had heard the news and were on their way to take her home two days before break.

***

Margaret’s eyes flew open. The van had finally stopped. They had driven for hours, and had just pulled up in front of a farmhouse that looked very much like the one she had grown up in. As soon as they had gotten out of the van, the other man got in the driver’s seat and drove off. Margaret saw Jared’s mother come out onto the porch and hold her arms out to Margaret, smiling. She expects me to greet her like a mother, to be happy I’m here. Margaret steeled herself, climbed the steps to Mrs Boucher and walked into her arms, clenching her jaw so as not to cry out in anger.


	15. Thanksgiving/Giving Thanks

“We’ve got her, she’s safe. She’s on her way to hospital. It’s the same hospital she was in when she was in that accident last summer, so if you want to start …” The police detective had called Adam as soon as he’d gotten confirmation from the police at the scene that they had Margaret. He didn’t tell Adam of Margaret’s injuries, it would be better if he found that out at the hospital.

Adam got off the phone and swallowed hard, blinking back tears. He turned and told Fred the news, and they hugged. It was Thanksgiving morning, and at last, they had something to give thanks for. It had been a long hard three days. Fred quickly went to his computer and sent an email of just two words, broadcast to the escort group - “She’s safe!” Then he and Adam got in the car to go to her. As Adam drove, Fred started calling people on the phone with the good news.

***

Detailed detective work had paid off, as well as having some luck. The van owner had reported his van stolen the same day Margaret was taken. If he had noticed his van missing earlier in the day, they might have caught them while they were still in it, as the van was equipped with OnStar. As it was, the van was located early that evening, abandoned ten miles from where it had been stolen. No useable fingerprints were found. But they had the license plate of the vehicle that the police believed the van driver had driven off in; a police canvas of the neighborhood the next morning found that an unknown SUV had been parked on a quiet residential street for twelve hours, and the license plate number written down by a housebound resident with nothing better to do.

The police were at the SUV driver’s door within an hour, questioning him about his whereabouts the previous day. He answered their questions calmly until they asked to search his house. After refusing the search, he wouldn’t say another word to them, other than to warn them not to touch or talk to his wife or children. His wife refused to allow a search as well, but the search warrant arrived very quickly when the faxed picture from the university cctv showed the same man getting in the back of the van with Margaret. They found nothing connected to Margaret in the house.

The last location Margaret’s cell phone had sent a signal was just a stretch of highway in Pennsylvania, about an hour from where she had lived growing up. Until the phone signal became active again, they couldn’t get further with that lead. But they started methodically checking known associates of the abductor now in custody, a retired military man, including all other retired military within five counties who had served in the same branch of service he had.

Early the next afternoon, the day before Thanksgiving, a police car drove up the long drive to the Boucher farmhouse. Officer Colthurst looked at the list on his computer; this was his fifth inquiry of the day, all related to an abduction in another state. He looked at the faxed pictures of two of the abductors and the young woman who was taken; she reminded him of his own teenage daughter. He looked at the place - well maintained, no vehicles in sight, barn in good condition, kids looking out the window. The adults answered his questions easily, although he felt their attempt to be friendly was false. None of the eight children said a word, just staring at him, darting glances at their parents when asked if they recognized the men or the young woman, but saying nothing. He went back to his car and sat for a while, staring at the house, requesting background checks on the Bouchers on his computer. Nothing came up out of the ordinary and he left, thinking, something’s not right there. And this sketch of the driver bears a close resemblance to Boucher. Better check with the neighbors.

Officer Colthurst returned the following morning with two other officers. It was a dreary day, and they could see a single light on in the house. There were only three men on the known associates list that officers thought should be followed up, and Tom Boucher was at the top of the list. Inquiries had revealed there was another teenaged boy in the family, the age of one of the abductors, who had not been present when the officer interviewed the Bouchers the day before. Neighbors identified Jared Boucher as the younger man in the faxed photo. That was more than enough information, along with the police sketch of the driver, to get their search warrant.

They saw more lights come on in the house as they drove up and got out of their cars, they heard a commotion inside, they heard shouting, and then they heard a scream. As they ran onto the porch, they heard another scream. And when they forced the door, their first sight was a young woman falling down the stairs, coming to rest, unconscious, at their feet.

***

John had spent Wednesday night at his mother’s home. When he awoke, the smell of pumpkin pie brought a smile to his face, and then the smile faded to nothing - Margaret. It had been three days and no word. He got up and took a long shower, wondering again what he could have done differently to prevent her from being taken. As he finished dressing, he heard a phone ring. Fred had called Fran every day, just to talk. Fred - her brother! Fran tried to tell me they weren’t involved, but I couldn’t see it. 

Aunt Belle was cooking a traditional Thanksgiving dinner for them, and for three friends from her choral group and her book club. They had called Adam and extended an invitation to him, just in case he and Fred could stand company for the day, but Adam had politely declined. As each day passed, he and Fred had gone out less, wanting to be home in case - no - when the police called to tell them Margaret was coming back to them. Neither of them had faced the thought, or could say it out loud if they had, that she might not be coming back.

Hannah had spent a good portion of the past three days comforting her daughter, an unusual thing for both of them. Fran had gone to classes escorted, at his and Hannah’s insistence, by John. He wasn’t really worried about Fran being abducted, there was still a police presence on campus and the security patrols were very visible, but they didn’t know why this had happened to Margaret. He knew Fran was nervous and frightened, and he wanted to keep her calm. She had spent more time than usual with her mother and Hannah surprised them all in being very sympathetic with her and not demanding hysterically that Fran be taken out of school. Maybe Aunt Belle is turning out to have a good influence on Mother after all.

John heard a yell from Fran’s room and she came running out. “They’ve found her! They’ve found Margaret!”

***

There were six police cars at the Boucher farmhouse. They had taken two adults into custody and social services were sorting out placement for seven children; a teenage boy, Caleb, was taken into police custody on preliminary charges of assault and battery, and awaiting possible other charges. Jared was still missing. No one was talking, not even the smallest children.

Police found Margaret’s possessions in the house, her book bag, a jacket and shirt, some of them in a very small room with no windows and a dead bolt lock on the door, key operated. There was a small bed in the room, a light, a small table next to the bed with a pitcher of water and a glass, some books, nothing else. Her cell phone was found, smashed, in Caleb’s desk drawer.

Margaret regained consciousness within a couple of minutes. The first person she saw when she opened her eyes was Officer Colthurst, and she reached out her hand to him, then winced in pain. 

“Don’t move, Ms Hale. I’m Officer Colthurst. You’re safe now. You’ve had a nasty fall, and we don’t want you getting hurt any more by moving too soon. The ambulance is on its way, so please just lie still. Why don’t you tell me where you hurt, but don’t move when you tell me,” he reminded her, smiling reassuringly at her.

Margaret blinked back the tears, which were threatening from both pain and relief. Safe! She slipped her small, shaking left hand into the officer’s big hand, took a deep breath and said, “Officer, my right arm hurts. And my head. I remember falling, and I think I hit my head. And my face, my left eye and cheek, my chin, really hurt.” She paused, blinking, biting her lip to keep the tears back. “Caleb hit me.” 

And then he saw the tears start. Margaret closed her eyes, embarrassed that she couldn’t help crying, and trying not to relive the last three days. Officer Colthurst’s hand tightened around Margaret’s as he saw her tears mix with the blood on her left cheek, and he clenched his jaw as he looked at Margaret’s bruised face and thought of his own daughter.

***

“Mr Bell, I’m Dr Chapin. I’m the primary ER doctor and have directed Ms Hale’s treatment so far. Let me tell you of her injuries first, and a problem we’re having that we want you to help us with. Then I’ll take you to see her. She had a fall, hit her head, but the scans we’ve done show no serious damage. She was concussed, and may feel some nausea for a while with movement, but that should resolve easily in a few days at most. She also has a hairline fracture of the right wrist; it will heal well and no cast was necessary. She has some bruises, some a couple of days old, there must have been some rough treatment … ” 

The doctor looked at Adam and Fred, hesitating a moment. “She was punched, in the face, quite hard, and I’m sure it was more than one blow. Fortunately, we found no fractures, but there is some swelling and there will be extensive bruising. I don’t want you to be too shocked when you see her, she will heal with minimal scarring but it is quite … unnerving looking right now. We don’t see these kinds of injuries in young women, this is the type of thing you see in young men who’ve been really fighting. So just be prepared.” He paused again. 

“Doctor, you said there was something you needed help with?” Adam was getting impatient. He wanted to get in to see Margaret. Nothing the doctor had said gave him a clue to what might be the problem. She was injured and she needed her family with her, now.

Dr Chapin cleared his throat. “Well, she has refused the rape kit. I was hoping you would be able to talk to her about it. She’s been adamant with us, no consent. It’s … ” The doctor’s voice trailed off as he saw Adam turn pale and Fred turn away, curling his hands into fists. “I’m sorry, the police said she was abducted by three men, missing for three days. The police asked ER personnel to do it, this is the type of case where we do the kit. Many women are reluctant, very understandable, she doesn’t want to think about what happened, she’s safe now, she just wants to go home, but it’s important, and the sooner the better. Will you talk to her about it?”

Adam nodded his head yes, his stomach churning. He put his hand on Fred’s shoulder and could feel his son shaking. “Fred, let’s go see her.” Dr Chapin led them to the examination room where Margaret was sitting on a stretcher, and left them at the door, telling them he would be back in a few minutes.

Margaret opened her eyes when she heard the door. She saw Uncle Adam and Fred and she couldn’t help herself, she started crying again, relieved to know that she would be home soon. Fred went to the side of the bed and just held her in his arms. He had gotten a quick look at her face and wanted to cry himself, after finding the men who had done that to her and beating them to a pulp. Uncle Adam held her hand and spoke soothingly to her of how relieved everyone was that she was safe and coming home soon.

“No, I don’t want to stay here, I want to go home now. Please don’t make me stay,” Margaret said tearfully, trying to climb off the examining table, looking about the room for the clothes they’d found her in. Dr Chapin came back in; she knew he wanted her to stay at least overnight for observation, but Margaret wasn’t having it. “I need to go home, please Uncle Adam, not another night in a hospital, not another night away from home, please,” Margaret pleaded.

“Margaret, the doctor said you refused a … complete examination.” Adam hesitated, wondering what argument would work, logic, concern for other women, longer sentences for these criminals. “Margaret, there is no shame in what happened to you, there is nothing for you to be embarrassed about. The doctors want to make sure you are all right, and to … forestall any … complications.” As Adam said that, he suddenly realized what those complications might be, and he fought the urge to be sick. 

Before he could continue, Margaret said, “Uncle Adam, I won’t have it. It’s not necessary, I was not raped, I wasn’t touched, well, not like that, at all. Jared wasn’t allowed to stay in the house at night until we were married, and I was locked in a tiny room each night and only Mrs Boucher had the key. Nothing happened to me … that way. I don’t care that the doctor wants to do it anyway, it’s my decision, I’m not deluding myself, I’m not lying. Please, please,” she said quietly, her lower lip trembling, “take me home.”

***

Adam looked in the rear view mirror, where he could see Fred with his arm around Margaret. She’d left the hospital against medical advice, but he and Fred felt the best thing for her was to get her home. She’d fallen asleep and they knew they were going to have to wake her every couple of hours through the night, but she had become much calmer when she knew she was going home, and they were sure they’d done the right thing.

Three hours later, they pulled up to Adam’s house, blazing with light. Home.


	16. The Police Station

Margaret decided not to go back to classes when she came home from the hospital. Adam and Fred thought they were going to have a fight on their hands in keeping her home for at least a while. But Margaret had surprised them that weekend by agreeing that, with only three weeks of classes left in the semester, it would be best if she took an ‘Incomplete’ in both of her classes and started again after the new year. Margaret told them she would have trouble writing with her injured arm, and she was feeling a little light headed still and … 

Margaret was shocked when she looked in the mirror the next afternoon and saw her face. She had a cut over her left eye, a cut on her cheek, a large bruise covering that area of her face and another on her jaw. It was mostly purple and red around her cheek and eye, but the area where Caleb had first hit her, her chin, was already dark purple, blue and black. Margaret knew it would all get darker and more highly colored as the days went by. She remembered how she felt when she first got out of the hospital months ago, in a wheelchair, sporting two casts and shorn hair; everyone had stared. Now she thought her face looked horrible. She knew she was being a coward, but she couldn’t bear the thought of the stares again, so she decided to stay home, out of sight. 

Fred and Uncle Adam wanted Margaret to rest, and asked all of their friends to give them some time alone with her. They would let them know when Margaret was ready to have company again. The only person Margaret asked to see that weekend was Nick. He had sent an email and left a message on the answering machine, apologizing to Margaret for his failure to protect her, accepting sole responsibility for what happened to her. She loved Nick as a brother and couldn’t stand him feeling that way. They sat quietly in the library, Margaret holding Nick’s hand, telling him neither of them knew anything had been wrong that long ago day with that strange man, she was grateful for everything he had done in helping and protecting her for so long, and what happened hadn’t changed that at all. 

***

Five days after she got home, the police asked her to come to their station to formally identify the men who had abducted her. They told her they could interview her at home if she wanted, but the identification would have to be made at the station. Guy knew that Nick had seen Margaret and was hurt that she refused to see him. He asked Adam to let him go with her to the police station, but he refused; Adam would be the only one to go there with her. He knew Margaret didn’t want Guy to see her yet. Her feelings for Guy were different from those she had for Nick; her bruises were so vivid, she couldn’t face him. And Adam wasn’t sure how the younger men would react, knowing the men who had harmed Margaret were in the same building with them.

Margaret had to view three separate lineups, as agreed by the men’s attorneys and the prosecutor’s office. Adam was with her, steadying her as she trembled, waiting to be brought in to the room to view the men. Margaret was reassured by the detectives that the men could not see or hear her, but the thought of seeing them again clearly unnerved her. She recognized the men immediately, but took her time to look at each man in each line, as the detective instructed. She identified Mr Boucher and his friend in the first two lineups, and was clear in her answers as to how she knew them. They were dressed similarly to the other men, all about the same height and age, but she would never mistake those men for anyone else. 

And then she saw Jared. He had been found Thanksgiving day, staying at a cousin’s house. He was standing with five other young men, and he looked so miserable that Margaret cried. His attorney objected to the identification, but Margaret was clear that Jared was one of the three men who abducted her. Margaret also identified Caleb from a photo array. The charges against him were all under Pennsylvania jurisdiction, and he would not be brought here.

Margaret had given a brief statement to police in Pennsylvania in the ER and now she sat down to give a detailed statement to local police, with Adam sitting in the interview room for moral support. Margaret hadn’t talked to anyone yet about what had happened. Adam and Fred decided Margaret would tell them what happened to her when she was ready and so far, she hadn’t said a single word. Fred had heard her crying softly during the night for the past three nights, but she had not answered him when he quietly knocked on her door and called her name. 

So Adam first heard the details of her ordeal as Margaret talked to the detectives: the abduction and her protests; seeing John in front of the van; the trip to the Boucher farmhouse; how she managed to get her phone turned on; Jared’s banishment from the house after the trip, Margaret not having seen him from that Monday evening until today at the station; being locked into that tiny room each night by Mrs Boucher, and leaving the light on all night for the little comfort it gave her; Caleb finding her phone when she tried to hide it outside the next day, and Caleb hitting her until his mother came outside, hearing Margaret scream. That was when Mr. Boucher decided his wife would have to search Margaret, but once they had found her phone, there wasn’t anything else to find.

She told of her isolation from all of the children except Caleb, with the others being given instructions that none of them were to say a word to her; Caleb with the job of shadowing her everywhere she went; the preparations for a wedding to take place on Thanksgiving evening, with Mrs. Boucher taking Margaret’s measurements for her ‘wedding dress’; being locked in the tiny room when the police came the day before her rescue, and crying when she realized no one could hear her pounding on the door and walls; her screams that morning when she realized police cars were outside the house, and Caleb’s efforts to silence her. Adam had all he could do to keep from wrapping his arms around her with every new revelation; he was glad again that Margaret hadn’t wanted Fred there, he already had enough rage to deal with.

The detectives asked questions throughout Margaret’s narrative, getting as much detail as they could. They told her if she remembered anything else, she could call and talk to either of them about it. And then they asked Adam to step out of the room with them. They stood in the hallway with Adam and said they wanted to continue the interview with just the woman detective present, along with a female counselor, to ask Margaret a few questions that might be easier for her to answer if she was talking just to women. 

Adam rolled his eyes and protested that Margaret had already said she wasn’t assaulted, why was this necessary. And the detectives looked right back at Adam. “Because if it happened, she may be less afraid to talk about it now. She’s home, she’s safe, they’re all in jail. And she may be fearful of what you would think of her if she talked about it in front of you. I know and you know you wouldn’t love her any less. But if that’s what she’s thinking, we have to do what we can to help her tell us anything she might be holding back for fear of upsetting you or losing your respect and love.” 

“Mr Bell, if it happened, it’s important that she talk about it, even if she would be unwilling to bring any charges. And that’s a decision we would leave to her, if it came to that. Frankly, we don’t believe anything of that nature happened. She was supposed to be the bride for their eldest son, so they would want to protect her, but … And if it did happen, we want to know, and we want her to get the support she needs. Don’t you?” Adam sighed, he wasn’t sure he did want to know, but if talking was best for Margaret, … .

A young woman came down the hall and introduced herself to Adam as Sarah Collins, a crisis counselor who worked with the police on certain cases. She assured Adam she hoped that Margaret had not been assaulted, and she wouldn’t bully her, but it was important to talk to her now to make sure she hadn’t been too frightened or traumatized to talk about it at the hospital. “I’ve had extensive training for just this kind of discussion, and all of the decisions, including whether to talk to me at all, will be controlled by Margaret. Please, let me talk to her without you in the room.” Adam nodded and both women went into the interview room and shut the door.

Margaret looked up as they came into the room and Sarah introduced herself. The interview lasted just fifteen minutes. Adam was a bit relieved to hear some laughter after several minutes. The door opened again and Adam saw the counselor smile at Margaret when she left, telling her she could call her to talk any time she wanted, about anything. She smiled at Adam and walked back down the hall; Adam went into the interview room and shut the door behind him.

“Margaret, I’m sorry you’ve had to go through so much, and then relive it all again today. Are you okay?” Adam was afraid to ask any specific questions, she looked so … fragile.

“Uncle Adam, it’s not your fault, and I’m glad you’ve been here with me. … I could tell you were upset … about me talking to the women.” Adam started to interrupt and Margaret stopped him. “No, it’s all right, really. They told me why they asked to talk to me alone. If … that …,” she paused and took a deep breath, “if I had been raped, I would have told. Believe me, I would have. Something like that … ” He saw a little smile on her face and he was puzzled. 

“You know how I grew up, Uncle Adam, but you didn’t know my father. There were some things that he was just wonderful about. He talked to me about everything,” Margaret paused, blushing, “including sex. He tried to answer any questions I had, no matter how … well, how specific or … . And he told me that some men had no respect for women and they could do terrible things, and it was never, ever the woman’s fault if that happened.” Margaret paused again and blinked back tears. She had promised herself she was going to stop crying so much, but it was hard sometimes. “He wanted to protect me from every danger in the world, and he hated knowing that he couldn’t. He loved me so much, and I guess he thought if I married the son of a man he knew, I would be safe.” Margaret sighed and just stared at the floor, thinking of her father. “I miss him,” she said quietly, her voice shaking.

Margaret was exhausted at the end of her interviews, which had lasted more than two hours, and she was unprepared for the request the detective brought to her. “Ms Hale, one of the men has asked to speak to you. His attorney doesn’t approve, nor do we, but he has asked, he’s been insistent, says he’s willing to tell us everything about the whole affair, but he wants to talk to you first. We would like to hear what he has to say, but it’s entirely up to you. You wouldn’t be alone in the room with him, your uncle could be there, police officers, his attorney … so there’s no need to be frightened. We’ll get them all on these charges, don’t worry about that, so don’t think that you have to do this.”

Margaret had agreed to talk to Jared, against everyone’s advice, even Uncle Adam’s. She felt sorry for him, felt she understood just a little why he had done what he’d done. She had grown up in a similar home, with an all controlling father, a submissive mother, rules about every single thing, no friends, no chance to know other people or the world. She had been saved by Fred and Uncle Adam, but who would save Jared? She had to talk to him.

Margaret had spent nearly half an hour with Jared. When she first walked in, Jared gasped in shock when he saw her face. It was the first time he had seen her since the day they had taken her. He’d been packed off to his cousins’ house within an hour of arriving home. “What happened? Who did that to you?” he asked hoarsely. When Margaret told him it was his brother, he turned away from her, unable to face her. “Oh, Margaret, I am so sorry.” 

There were four other people in the interview room, but after the first few awkward minutes, Margaret moved her chair right next to Jared’s, put her head close to his and, holding hands, they whispered quietly to each other about what had happened to both of them. Margaret coaxed Jared to talk about his family by telling him about her mother and father and how she had grown up, and how she envied him having brothers and sisters.

“Margaret, I’m so sorry for what happened. I was so happy when we met that day at the restaurant, knowing that you were to be my wife. And then so upset when we couldn’t see you again. I thought … ” Jared couldn’t continue for a moment, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I thought other people were keeping you from us, I didn’t know you didn’t want to see us, didn’t want to see me. My father wouldn’t listen when I said I wanted to talk to you alone before … before this happened. I thought if we were wrong, if you were happy in your new life, then we shouldn’t … He wouldn’t listen, he said we had to do it, he’d promised your father, and … ” Jared put his head in his hands, unable to look at her anymore, and Margaret put her arms around him.

“Jared, please, I don’t blame you for this. You were listening to your father. I did the same thing when I lived at home. He was in charge of everything, and he was always right, there was no arguing with him. There was never a choice, and I know you didn’t have one either.” She felt strongly that Jared couldn’t have done anything different from what he had done, and she wanted to help him. She knew she would speak up for him at his trial, if it came to that, and wanted to help him get away from the world he grew up in if she could.

Adam took Margaret home, both of them glad the ordeal was over. Margaret was bone tired, falling asleep as soon as she lay down.


	17. Recovery and Revelations

Fred went to the suite after Thanksgiving weekend and packed Margaret’s clothes to take home. He assured Edith and Fran that Margaret would be back for the next semester, but she needed some recovery time. “She’s been through so much, and she’s feeling self conscious about how she looks, so we need to give her a little time. I know she wants to see you. Why don’t you call in a couple of days, and maybe suggest a girls’ night?” Fred didn’t want them to be too shocked when they saw Margaret, so he told them that Margaret’s face had been badly bruised.

Fran and Edith spent an hour with Margaret in her room one evening a week after she came home. They all cried as soon as they saw each other, the emotions they’d all been through just spilling out, but Edith and Fran didn’t ask Margaret any questions about what had happened. They knew she’d tell them what she wanted to when she was ready. They were just glad to see that she seemed all right, in spite of how she looked. She told them she would visit them in the suite once she felt better, but she wouldn’t be going out until the bruises faded.

John picked Fran and Edith up that night from Adam’s house, and his throat tightened as he listened to them crying in each other’s arms in the back of the car as he drove them back to their suite. Fran hugged him much longer than usual when they said good night, shaking and crying “Oh John” as she clung to him. Fran quickly said yes when John asked if she wanted him to stay the night on the sofa in the suite.

***

Uncle Adam had told Margaret about the annual holiday party at his house, scheduled this year for two days before Christmas, and he told her he had decided to cancel it. But Margaret told him she didn’t want him to cancel it because of her, she wanted a party, she’d never been to a holiday party and she was excited about it. Her face would have more than enough time to heal by then, and she would have just tiny scars where she had been stitched. Uncle Adam was very happy to see her so enthusiastic and agreed that they would have the party as scheduled.

She saw all of the escorts at home during the month, except Guy. Fred invited two or three of them at a time over for the evening. Margaret thanked them for helping her for so long, and for helping Fred and Uncle Adam while she ‘was away’, as she put it. She also thanked them for not talking about her to the newspapers. Every one of them had been contacted by the tabloids, and none of them had said anything. Margaret didn’t go out of the house for the first two weeks, but once her bruises started to fade, she felt she was ready.

But before her first trip out, other than to the doctor, Uncle Adam and Fred sat down with her and told her what had happened to her had traumatized them as well, and they couldn’t bear the thought of anything else happening to her. They convinced her that, for their peace of mind, she needed to have an escort with her everywhere, at least for a while. Margaret wanted to get on with her life, hoping she would be able to get back the confident feeling she had before Thanksgiving. But, seeing the looks in their eyes and hearing the way they talked about it, Margaret couldn’t refuse them.

She visited Fran and Edith at the suite. Margaret called first to ask Fran if John was there, because the bruises on her face were still visible and she didn’t want him to see her like that. Fran thought Margaret might have a crush on her brother, although they had never talked about it, but she didn’t think Margaret was ready for even some gentle teasing right now, so she didn’t say anything. She assured Margaret that neither John nor David was at the suite, and the women had a long visit before Fran and Edith had to go to class.

***

And Margaret visited Jared. She saw him in jail twice after the day she had identified him. Jared told her he had no other visitors, and Margaret asked about his mother. He sighed and shook his head. “She won’t come. Father won’t permit it, and he told me I’m staying here, in jail. Mother is putting up his bail today, but they’re not going to put up mine, he won’t have me home again.” Jared turned away from Margaret so she couldn’t see his face, but she knew. She knew how he was feeling, knowing his family was abandoning him - and this had happened because of her, it was her fault Jared was here.

Margaret spent the next morning talking to her attorney about Jared. She knew Jared had his own attorney, but wanted to know if Mr Shaw would speak to Jared if … . 

“Margaret,” Mr Shaw interrupted her, “Mr Boucher already has representation. It would be unethical if I spoke with him. He has already made his choice. I can’t do what you want. I’m sorry.”

“Mr Shaw, Jared did not choose, his father chose for him. He doesn’t know his attorney, and his father is the one telling the attorney what to do. That can’t be right for Jared. If I talk to him and he agrees that he needs a new attorney, would you speak to him then?” Jonathan Shaw looked across the desk at the determined young woman, and wondered why in the world she would want to help one of the men who had abducted her.

“And, I want to put up his bail. That’s the right way to say it, isn’t it? I want to put up the money so he doesn’t stay in jail. His father and the other man got out yesterday, but they wouldn’t put up the money for Jared. I think they’re angry that he talked to the police about what happened and they are punishing him. He shouldn’t be in jail, it’s not right. Even if you won’t talk to him about the case, you can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Margaret, of course I could arrange for the surety, but perhaps that’s not what Jared wants. Where will he go? There might be some restrictions on his movements tied to granting bail. And how much is the bail? Do you even know? And do you have that much cash after buying the apartment? Mr. Hamper may not have that much of your investment liquid right now.” He smiled. “I’m not trying to discourage you. Well, maybe a bit. But there are a few questions to be answered before we proceed.”

Margaret spent the next half an hour giving Mr Shaw all details she knew about Jared, the bail hearing and her available assets, including two properties, one in town and one in Pennsylvania, which she was offering as places for Jared to live while finding his way. They agreed that Mr Shaw would arrange to post bail, and he would arrange for a good defense attorney for him, if Jared agreed. Margaret left the meeting feeling much better about Jared’s immediate prospects. Now she just had to worry about her own.

***

That afternoon Margaret paced her room, wringing her hands, shaking her head, unable to sit or lie still. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. They had started while she was still ‘away’ and they were getting worse each day. Uncle Adam and Fred have been so worried, I can’t worry them any more. And Fran, she is still so upset. Ms. Collins … Sarah? She said I could call any time, to talk about anything. I have to tell someone, I have to! 

Margaret picked up the phone, and put it down again, three times. When she realized how much her hands were shaking, she picked it up again and called the number on the card. One hour later, Kevin had driven her to a building next to the police station and now she was sitting across from Sarah Collins, thinking where to start, how to talk about what was troubling her so much.

“I, I should have done more. It was my fault that all this happened, and now Jared is in jail, and his family is abandoning him, and I’m … I’m the reason, I’m to blame. I should have … fought them, if I’d been … stronger, smarter … ” Tears were streaming down Margaret’s face now and she couldn’t talk any more. Sarah just waited quietly until Margaret calmed herself.

“Margaret, you are not responsible for what those men did to you. You are not responsible for what Jared’s family have decided to do, and it is not your fault that he is in jail right now. None of this, none of it, is your fault.” Sarah paused, hoping Margaret could let go of the guilt of being abducted. “Let’s talk about it, what you could have done differently. Three men abducted you. Could you have gotten away from three men, overpowered three men?” Margaret slowly shook her head no. “No, you couldn’t, and that’s probably one reason why there were three of them there, to make sure they were able to subdue you if they had to. And you did yell, didn’t you, but there wasn’t anyone around to help. So you did do your best against criminals, Margaret … ”

Margaret’s head snapped up at that statement. “Jared’s not a criminal. He was forced to do it by his father. He told me … ”

Sarah interrupted. “I understand some of what you feel for Jared, Margaret, but in the eyes of the law, from his own statement to the police, he is a criminal. He was supposed to say no to his father, and if necessary, report him to the police. I know, it was his father and you believe he was forced, but … . Well, whatever either of us thinks about what Jared did, the court is now in charge of his fate. Let’s get back to you, let’s help you. Tell me if you think there was anything else you should have done.”

Margaret spent an hour talking with Sarah, telling her of the helplessness she had experienced and the continued feeling of vulnerability. But as they talked about it, Margaret did realize that she had done a lot to help herself, and if she had done more, she might have been hurt worse than she was. She was relieved to say that the bad dreams had stopped. And she felt she was starting to let go of the experience, but her feelings for Jared confused her. She told Sarah the steps she had taken to help Jared and they both thought once Jared was out of jail, Margaret would be able to view the experience from a different perspective. Margaret made another appointment with Sarah and then met Fred outside, and he was relieved to see her smiling again.

***

Three weeks after Margaret came home, John saw Adam sitting alone in the faculty lounge. It was the first time they had a chance to talk without other people around. John told him how glad they were that Margaret was safe, but that Fran had been quite upset when she had first seen her. And then, hoping for some answers, John told Adam how shocked he had been to find out Fred was Margaret’s brother. He asked Adam if he could talk about it.

“John, when we found her last summer, Margaret had been so traumatized … we left it as her decision what and when to tell people.” Adam paused, thinking of what she had been through since then. “I understand she told you her parents were killed in the accident.” John nodded yes. “Well, Fred and Margaret have, had, the same mother. Long story short, Maria and I met more than twenty years ago, she was a young widow, or so she and I both thought. There was tremendous red tape with the military, letters back and forth for certificates about her husband, delaying our marriage. Fred was born and then Maria’s husband reappeared three months later. He took her away, but wouldn’t let her take Fred. Fred and I hadn’t seen Margaret in more than a decade, until she came to us after the accident.”

“She led a very … different life in her first eighteen years. She’s had so much catching up to do. She had been so isolated, she didn’t know people at all, so we all felt she would be a bit more ... protected … with everyone assuming Fred was her boyfriend. No one hitting on her, you know. She didn’t really have a clue about boys.” Adam paused, looking at John. John hadn’t said a word, but raised his eyebrows at Adam’s last comment. “She never went to school, you see. She was home schooled her entire life, never had any friends, no playmates, nothing. So boys, men, relationships were an unknown thing.”

Adam thought back to a conversation he and Fred had last month. Fred and Margaret had talked about how she was getting on with men other than Fred’s friends, Fred teasing her that half the men in her classes were crazy about her. She said she wasn’t more than friends with anyone, though Fred was sure Guy was quite keen. But Margaret had confessed to her brother that she did like John, adding quickly that he didn’t like her that way at all. She said he thought of her as a child. Well, I certainly won’t tell him that.

“She did tell Fran and Edith, I know. And of course Nick and Guy knew right away, they’ve known Fred their whole lives. Eventually all of the ‘escorts’, as I understand you call them, found out and were fine with it. They all love Margaret like a sister. Well, I’ve seen some more than brotherly contact recently, especially from Guy, but I guess Margaret decided she’s ready for that. John, she didn’t do it to deceive, to trick people. It was really …. ”

John interrupted Adam. “I understand, Adam, really. Margaret never owed me any explanation as to her behaviour, after all. I didn’t feel deceived so much as surprised. Fran did try to tell me Margaret and Fred weren’t a couple, but I thought it was because Fran fancied Fred herself and just didn’t want to see how much he loved Margaret. But I was the wrong one there, wasn’t I? He loves her, just not the way I thought.” John just stood with Adam, both of them staring out the window for a while.

John spoke quietly, almost as if he were talking to himself. “I’ve always seen her as a child, not a young woman, partly because she’s the same age as my baby sister. And the way she was when I first met her. She was wearing that baseball cap, and looked as if she would break in half with a puff of wind. Everything seemed new to her, and I didn’t know why.” John stopped and just shook his head. He looked back at Adam. “And now, how is she doing now? Was she … will she recover completely?”

Adam smiled. “You’ll see her next Friday night at the party. You’re coming, aren’t you? I know Fran is, and all of Fred’s friends, some other faculty of course and neighbors. Margaret is looking forward to it, and I think she’s ready to see you.”

“What do you mean, ‘ready to see me’?” John asked, puzzled.

Adam sighed heavily. “John, she didn’t leave the house for more than two weeks because … I don’t know how to describe it, but … her face was so bruised from … being punched … she couldn’t face people.” He saw the shock on John’s face and realized that Fran hadn’t told him about it. “Caleb, a brute of a teenager, he punched her when she tried to hide her cell phone, and when she tried to get the attention of the police Thanksgiving. Fortunately, there were no broken bones, but there were cuts and she had bruises covering most of the left side of her face. That was really why she didn’t go back to classes, the bruises. She was embarrassed, ashamed of how she looked.” 

He saw John’s look of astonishment and before John could protest, Adam exclaimed, “I know! I know! She had nothing to be ashamed of, but, she’s a young woman, she looked in the mirror and … . She’d been through so much, John, it was her decision. She’d been stared at so much after the accident, she couldn’t face it again. She … Well, the bruising is almost gone and the scars are very tiny and - come celebrate with us all Friday night!” Adam smiled at John, and left.

John turned back to the window, staring at nothing, a half smile on his face. I’ll see Margaret, soon.


	18. A Party

Before going upstairs to get dressed for the party, Margaret had wandered into the library and taken a deep breath, again. She loved the evergreen smell from the boughs and wreaths all over the house and the tree in this room. This had been one of her favorite times of year when she was growing up. It was the only time the house had been decorated. Her mother had insisted, because she had grown up with a decorated house and she knew how much Margaret liked it. It was one of the few things that her father had not controlled.

Now Margaret stood before her mirror in a pair of black full cut trousers and a green high necked skinny rib sweater that showed off her figure in a way that made Margaret blush as she looked at herself. She had gone shopping with Fran and Nick two days earlier. Margaret had no special clothes for a party, and she wanted to look nice for her first ‘public’ appearance among so many people. Nothing Fran said could convince Margaret to even try on a skirt or dress. Margaret wouldn’t say so, she couldn’t say it out loud, nothing terrible had happened, but … she felt less vulnerable in trousers. She looked at dresses and just shuddered, thinking about the hospital and the extra tests and exam they wanted to do. She couldn’t. Maybe that would change with time, but for now … 

She found the right trousers quickly, in a soft, drapey black wool, and then they searched for a top. Fran spotted a sweater in a deep heathered green that was a perfect complement to Margaret’s eyes. But once Margaret pulled it on, she refused to leave the dressing room. Fran had picked a v-necked sweater and Margaret couldn’t believe how much of her showed in it. Margaret stared at herself in the mirror and turned crimson. She could see her throat, the top of her chest, and … farther. “Fran, I can’t wear something like this. Everyone will be staring. I’m … it’s not … I’m not covered!”

“Margaret, you needn’t cover every inch of skin you have! It’s not even a deep v neck. You can’t see too much, you’re just used to showing nothing at all. You look perfect, Guy will love it.” She saw Margaret’s protest start, mouth wide open as she gasped at that comment, and Fran giggled. “I’m only teasing, but he would, you know he would.” Fran raised her eyebrows and grinned. Margaret blushed and laughed along with her, but still took the sweater off. Fran had also picked up a high necked version of the same sweater, but in a skinny rib knit, and Margaret pulled that on over her head.

“Oh, Fran, this is too tight. I can’t wear this. Everything … You must have picked up the wrong size.”

“Margaret, I did not pick the wrong size, look at the tag, it’s your size. It isn’t too tight, it’s just not loose! All of your other clothes, you swim in them, that’s why this feels so different. It’s a perfect fit, it’s supposed to hug your curves. Oh, stop blushing, you’re supposed to have curves and you know it. Come on out and show Nick. Get the male point of view.” Margaret had edged her way nervously out of the dressing room to ask Nick’s opinion and he had given an enthusiastic thumbs up. 

Margaret had stood there, blushing again, trying to ask Nick if she looked too, well, … and then she was too embarrassed to actually say the words. Nick assured her she looked both respectable and sexy at the same time. That almost sent the sweater back to the table it had been found on, but they both convinced her she would look just right for the party, so here she was, ready to go downstairs, hoping her chest wouldn’t attract any attention.

***

It was snowing and John drove Fran to Adam’s house. The campus was very quiet, all the students had left for home. There were more than thirty people already enjoying themselves when they arrived, and Fran immediately left John to find some friends. John stood in the foyer near the entrance to the living room, watching the guests mingling, helping themselves to hors doeuvres and drinks, searching for her with his eyes. And then he heard a soft voice behind him, “John?” His heart started to thud, and he turned around.

“John, how are you?” she smiled nervously at him. Margaret had just come down the stairs, and standing on the last step, she was almost at eye level with him.

“Margaret, it’s so good to see you again. You look … beautiful,” John said as his eyes drank her in, and then he flushed. Don’t be an idiot, of course she’s beautiful. “How are you feeling? I haven’t seen you since … ” Stop, stop, don’t remind her of the last time you saw her, and couldn’t protect her. Why am I so nervous?

“Thank you,” she said, blushing. “I feel wonderful. I am so glad you came to the party, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.” Margaret could feel her heart beating faster as she looked into those blue eyes, and then her eyes took in the whole man standing before her. Adam had told John the party was casual dress, he wanted everyone to be comfortable. John had on charcoal grey trousers which hugged his slim hips, a cotton shirt which seemed uncannily matched to the blue of his eyes, and a pale grey cashmere sweater that looked like the softest thing she’d ever seen. Without thinking, Margaret reached out her right hand towards him … She stopped her hand mid-air, suddenly realizing she had almost touched his chest. She quickly said the first thing that came to mind.

“Isn’t the house beautiful? Uncle Adam let me do all of the decorating inside. Come see what I did in the library,” Margaret said, and continued to talk about the decorations while John followed her, admiring how at ease she seemed after all that had happened to her. He saw the scars; Adam was right, they were small, but still visible. 

As they entered the library, Margaret said, “I’ve always liked this time of year. And it brings good memories of home,” she said wistfully. Margaret stopped talking, lost in thought about how much had changed for her since last Christmas, how much she had lost, how much she had gained. She missed the homey things she and her mother had done for the holidays, making so many decorations themselves, making the one or two presents they gave each other, spending hours in the kitchen, making special things for the season. They never actually celebrated Christmas day, never went to church or saw any other people, but her mother made sure it was a special time of year for Margaret. Sometimes she missed the quiet of her other life, and she missed the closeness she had with her parents.

But she was happy to be able to celebrate this year with people she hadn’t known a year ago - Fred and Uncle Adam, Fran and John, Guy and Nick, escorts and neighbors and friends - and do things she had never dreamt possible last year. They had been to a holiday concert at Carnegie Hall the prior weekend, they had adopted two local families through the county volunteer agency and bought them gifts, they had accepted invitations to another party. None of this would have happened in her other life, and if sometimes she still felt a little overwhelmed by the new, well, she was learning to deal with that too.

John was lost in thought as well, but all of his thoughts were of Margaret and how beautiful she looked as she stood before him. Fran had told him she had gone shopping with Margaret for clothes for tonight and he would like what they got, but she wouldn’t say anything else. Well, Fran was certainly right about that. If I hadn’t seen her in a swim suit, I would never have known before tonight that she had a shape at all, she’s always in clothes that look two or three sizes too big for her. How in the world did Fran convince her to buy that sweater? I’ll have to give my sister a hug for that. And her extra weight is distributed ever so nicely.

John suddenly realized he was staring and that Margaret was blushing. “I’m sorry Margaret. Fran told me the two of you went shopping. Your clothes are perfect for the party.” Good grief! What are you, a fashion consultant? Just tell her how much you’ve missed her … 

“Margaret, there you are!” Guy came over to them, and with a quick ‘hi’ to John, turned his attention to her. “You look gorgeous. Why haven’t I seen you for the past month? Every one of my friends has been here, but Fred said you didn’t want to see me. What’s going on? I thought we were …” Guy stepped very close to her, lowered his head and his voice, and whispered so that John couldn’t hear, “I’ve missed you so much.” Guy looked so hurt, Margaret reached up and hugged him.

She pulled away to look at him again. “Guy, I’m sorry, I felt so awful, and I looked … I didn’t want you to see me when I looked so terrible, I didn’t want you to think of me that way … ” Margaret’s voice trailed off, and she put her arms around Guy again, not saying anything else. She saw John turn and walk away from them and she frowned. You like my clothes? Please, look at me, see me!

Margaret hadn’t a clue what was going through John’s mind as he had watched her hug Guy. John needed to leave the room, to get away from the sight of Margaret in someone else’s arms. He was reeling with emotion, thoughts swirling through his head. Damn. You’re jealous! Jealous of that kid! She puts her arms around him, but all she does with you is talk about holiday decorations! It’s your own fault, you’ve always treated her like a child. Well, she certainly isn’t that anymore … and … 

John looked around him; there were many people he knew, but no one he wanted to talk to right now. He had to get away, to think. John walked outside to the backyard, shivering as he walked in the garden, but wanting to be alone while he was trying to calm himself. She’s no child, she’s a young woman, you’re attracted to her and now you’re suffering because of the way you’ve ignored her. The other men around her have seen her for what she is, while you … 

John thought back to the night he was alone at the pool with Margaret. I blew it right then, didn’t I? She was going to kiss me, and I stopped her. What a fool I am! John opened the door to the greenhouse, thinking to get out of the snow. It was a little warmer inside. She’s always seemed so vulnerable, in so many ways, and from what Adam said, she wasn’t ready for … anything … for quite some time. But, she’s no longer the shy child she was when you first met her. And the way she just hugged Guy … 

John just walked up and down the aisle in the greenhouse, not really looking at any of the plants, not seeing anything, trying to put the image of Margaret in Guy’s arms out of his mind and not succeeding. Suddenly the door opened and he blinked and shook his head - she was walking towards him. “Margaret, what are you doing out here? You’ll get cold.”

She just smiled. “I saw you go out and waited for you to come back. When you didn’t, I came to find you because Uncle Adam wants everyone to come in for the singing. And because I missed you. He said it’s a tradition at these parties, they sing carols around the piano. I’ve never done anything like that,“ she said with a smile. “So, will you come, or am I disturbing you?”

“No, of course I’ll come. You’re not disturbing me,” John lied. Everything about you is disturbing me tonight. He couldn’t help himself, he had to ask. “And where is Guy? He seemed determined to stay close to you tonight.”

Margaret frowned, hearing John’s tone of voice. “John, don’t you like Guy? He’s very sweet, and he’s been so nice to me.”

“I’m sorry, Margaret, I didn’t mean anything bad by it, I don’t dislike Guy, it’s just that … well, I wondered what your relationship is with him, that’s all. Are you dating?” Say no, say he’s just a friend, just an escort.

Margaret stared at the man in front of her. He is … perfect. I wish … She sighed, knowing wishes didn’t make things so. “Guy and I are friends. I’ve never been on a date, with anyone,” Margaret hesitated, thinking of what had happened so recently, and then, suppressing a smile, she said, “although I was just a few hours away from being married last month.”

John was startled by that last comment, and then he saw the smile she couldn’t hide any longer, and he chuckled. “Yes, well, from never dating to being married, that would be quite a leap for anyone.” John lowered his voice and stepped closer to her. “We’re all very glad you didn’t have to make that leap, Margaret. I am so glad you are home again and well.” He stepped even closer, so they were almost touching, but before he could say anything else, he saw her shiver. He quickly said, “Margaret, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kept you out here. You’re cold, let’s get you back inside.”

John put his arm around Margaret to keep her warm and walked her toward the door of the greenhouse. As he opened the door, he took his arm away from her to let her through first, and Margaret turned to face him and said quietly, “I wasn’t cold, John.” She just stood there, searching his face with those green eyes. Please, look at me, see me! Before John could think about what Margaret meant, the silence between them was interrupted by shouting.

“Margaret! … Margaret!” Fred and Guy were at the patio door, calling for her. The alarm had gone up when Guy and Nick realized they didn’t know where Margaret was, and everyone was searching for her. “Oh, there you are! Margaret, we didn’t know you were with John, we were worried. Are you coming in for the singing?”

Margaret had stepped away from John when she heard the shouts, and now walked quickly to the patio door and went inside, John following, his thoughts back in the swirl they had been when he had first stepped outside. I know she shivered, so what did she mean that she was not cold? A smile played around John’s lips as another possibility came to mind.


	19. The Party - continued

Margaret and John followed Fred and Guy back into the house, Margaret apologizing for not telling them where she was going. She had only been back home a month, and they were still very nervous when they didn’t know where she was. While she was chafing at the restrictions on her freedom, she understood that their fear for her safety wouldn’t disappear quickly.

Uncle Adam motioned for Margaret to join him and Fred in the living room as he asked for everyone’s attention. He made a toast, to everyone who had come together this night, to all those friends who were unable to be with them, to every holiday or holy day anyone in the group celebrated at this time of year, to peace, to loved ones safely with us, looking directly at Margaret as he said the last. Margaret hugged him and Fred as everyone drank, and then slowly edged back from the group, as everyone gathered closer to the piano for the singing.

John watched her as they began the caroling. Margaret had a big smile on her face, but didn’t sing a note. “Margaret, why aren’t you singing? Do you sound like a frog?” he teased, as he came to stand beside her.

She blushed. “I don’t know any of the songs. I like the sound, but I’d never heard carols before Fran and I went shopping a couple of days ago. The music was in every store, and sounded very … “ Margaret paused for a long time, “very jingly? Not the way the songs sound tonight at all. But why aren’t you singing, John? Do you sound like a frog?” she teased back. 

John smiled, but before he could say anything else, he saw Adam motioning for him to rejoin the group, they were dividing into sections and Adam needed another baritone with him. Margaret spent the next half hour listening to the singing, marveling at everyone knowing so many different songs. It was such a joyful sound, no wonder so many people loved this holiday.

***

“Oh, Vic, how wonderful that you could come! And Kit.” Margaret saw them standing in the foyer just as the singing ended, hesitating to come into the living room, not yet recognizing anyone they knew. “Don’t you look nice tonight!” she said, admiring Vic in blue jeans, a plaid shirt and a fleece sweatshirt. It was the first time she had seen him out of his leathers, and somehow, he looked even bigger than usual. “Come in, Fran and the Boys are here, and come meet Uncle Adam.”

Margaret spent the next fifteen minutes introducing Vic and Kit to others, making sure they got plenty of food, showing them the decorated house, and then standing outside admiring Vic’s new bike, with Margaret wearing Vic’s enormous leather jacket to keep warm while Vic showed her the finer points of his new Harley. “But Vic, you must freeze when you ride in the snow!” she exclaimed, shivering involuntarily.

“No, no, you get used to it, and the leather is very warm, Margaret. I’ll take you out on a ride once the weather is better, I promise. You’ll have to have at least a leather jacket, Margaret, but I’ve already got a helmet for you to wear. Now, let’s get you back inside,” he said, and they all trooped back inside to have some punch to warm up again.

*** 

John spent some time talking with other faculty members about the three positions soon to be filled. Two other adjuncts were discussing how much time it was taking to grade exams and essays, bemoaning the lack of free time they had, as they both had other jobs. John thought he was making life easier for himself by requiring each student to write a program that would accurately analyze certain data sets and, if possible with the given information, make economic predictions. He thought it was a simple assignment, and would be extremely easy for him to determine if they had grasped the fundamentals of what his course was about. 

But some of the students turned it into something much more complex than it was. He had spent some time during the week deciding if turning something simple into something much more complex was necessarily a negative, requiring lowering the student’s grade. It certainly took more of his time to grade the finished product. But he was definitely pleased that every student in that class had signed on for the follow on class for the next semester. They had been a hard working and very vocal group, so he was looking forward to having them in class again.

***

Some time later John found Margaret sitting alone in the music room. He had seen her here and there over the past half hour, but always talking to someone else. Now she was looking at some of the many cards Fred and Adam had received. John sat in an armchair across from her. “Margaret, did you celebrate Christmas when you were growing up? Adam said you led, well, a very quiet life before.”

Margaret smiled. “My mother and I exchanged gifts at home, but it was very simple. We never went to town to shop for gifts, we made them ourselves.” She saw John’s raised eyebrows and just shrugged. “My father … well, not everyone celebrates the day, or in the same way. We didn’t go to church ever, or visit any people, so … my mother remembered how she grew up with a decorated house, so we had that, but not much else. Nothing like this, or like I see outside other people’s houses or in the stores. What about your family, John?”

“We had quiet holidays, Margaret. My mother was just a little … ” John stopped talking, thinking about the holidays when Fran was very small and their father was still with them. Even if he didn’t understand it, John was old enough to feel the strain in the household, the tension between his parents, which seemed to increase during the holiday season. Families were supposed to be happy, to love each other at that time of the year, but his family hadn’t been like that. And after his father left, John shouldered the responsibility of seeing that his sister and his mother enjoyed the holiday. He thought he had succeeded with his sister, but never with his mother. 

John didn’t say anything else. He didn’t want to criticize his mother to Margaret. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. He didn’t really know why she had always seemed unhappy, but she was his mother. Margaret had watched the emotions on John’s face as he was thinking of past holidays, and she reached out and put her hand on his, and just smiled at him.

“John, we won’t see each other again before Christmas, so please, come into the library with me.” They went into the library and Margaret reached under the tree. “I wanted to give you this,” she said shyly, and handed him a package wrapped in holiday paper. John just stared at the flat package in his hand, seeing his name on the tag. John didn’t say anything, and Margaret frowned. This was the first year she’d ever given gifts to someone other than her mother or father and she had expected some reaction, a thank you would have sufficed. She turned to leave and John suddenly spoke.

“Margaret, I’m sorry, I’m just so surprised, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. And if you’re going to go back outside to walk again, you should open it,” she said with a little smile.

“Why, what is it?” John asked, turning it over in his hands.

Margaret rolled her eyes, and laughed. “Why ask me that? Why not just open the paper?” She grinned at him, and John thought that she was beginning to feel more at ease with him, but that thought did not make him happy, not at all. She sees me as a big brother, as just a friend. John opened the paper and found a finely knit scarf, navy and french blue stripes. 

“Margaret, this looks hand made. Did you make it?” he asked, just staring at it and turning it over carefully in his hands. 

“Well, yes, but … ” she looked up at him, seeing his brows knit together, his forehead crinkled, “you don’t have to wear it. It’s okay if you don’t like it,” her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip. She had only recently learned that many people put no value on hand made things; if it wasn’t purchased in a store, if it didn’t have the right label, it wasn’t worth anything. She was so disappointed, and embarrassed; she hadn’t realized John was like that … 

“Don’t like it? Of course I like it, Margaret, it’s beautiful, and the work you did, it’s amazing!” And John promptly draped the scarf around his neck. “Umm, very soft.” He saw her face flush, but she looked very pleased with his reaction, so he left the scarf on the rest of the evening, telling anyone who asked that Margaret had made it.

John was secretly pleased, thinking that Margaret must have feelings for him after all, until he noticed that as the evening wore on, Margaret disappeared into the library several times with escorts and other men, and each came out with a scarf or hat. Guy’s scarf and hat were, of course, black, but everyone else got other colors, including orange and black for Vic and that other biker. Hmmph. Not so special after all, are you, John? And then he became annoyed with himself, when he realized he was being petty, begrudging other people getting gifts from her. She had a generous heart, and he admired that. Wanting all of her generosity for himself was selfish, wasn’t it?

***

The guests were starting to leave, in groups of two and three. Fred and Adam were in the foyer, saying good night, and John looked around for Margaret. He saw her in the library with Guy, shaking her head no. Well, why don’t I interrupt this conversation right now? he thought with a sly smile. I’d like to say goodnight to Margaret properly, and Guy doesn’t figure into it at all.

“Guy, your parents are right, you should spend the day with them and your sisters. And I just can’t believe you don’t want to go to your grandparents’ house in the afternoon. No, I won’t agree and you can stop asking right now.” Margaret looked up as John walked into the library. “John, where are you spending Christmas day? With your mother and Fran and your Aunt Belle, right?” Margaret didn’t give John a chance to say a word. 

“Guy, you know I’d love to see you, but I see you all the time and your grandparents live two hours away and almost never get to see you.” Guy started to argue again that he hadn’t seen her in a month, and Margaret cried in exasperation, “Guy, not everyone has grandparents to see! Don’t you understand, they won’t always be here. Some day you won’t have them, and you won’t have your parents either, and you’ll be so sad because you’ll never be able to see them again!” John saw the tears in Margaret’s eyes as she turned and ran out of the library and up the stairs. 

John gave Guy a withering look and went to find his sister. “Fran, please go find Margaret. She’s upset and just ran upstairs.” 

“What happened? What did you do?” Fran looked accusingly at John.

“I didn’t do or even say anything to her, I didn’t get a chance. She was talking to Guy about visiting with family for the holiday, and I think it just reminded her very sharply that she’s lost almost all her family. Please go see her, Fran.” Fran turned and hurried up the stairs towards Margaret’s bedroom, and John turned to go back to the library. He nodded to Guy, who nodded back, neither of them wanting to talk to the other.

“Guy, here you are. Nick and I are planning the practice sessions for the week, come on into the kitchen. Oh, John,” Fred smiled at seeing him, “I’m glad you’re here. Our band is playing at the Pig’s Bladder on Friday and Saturday nights, and Margaret and Fran want to come, of course, but we haven’t worked out an escort yet for Friday night. I was wondering … ”

“I’m free, Fred. I’d be happy to escort them. Mother doesn’t like Fran going there, but if she knows I’m going with her, she’ll be okay with it. I’ll get the details from Fran as to picking them up, the time, whatever,” John said, smiling. He hadn’t any plans at all yet for Friday night, and now he was seeing Margaret. Excellent!

Fred and Guy disappeared into the kitchen, and John stayed in the library, looking at some of the titles on the shelves. He heard a noise, turned and saw Fran and Margaret coming down the stairs, arm in arm, smiling. “John, are we leaving now? Mother wants to do some last minute shopping very early tomorrow morning. Don’t roll your eyes at me, big brother, some things she wants to get are for you, and if I don’t go with her, you will definitely be sorry. The clothes she picks out for you when I’m not there are just pathetic and you know it.” Fran turned and hugged and kissed Margaret, and then went to find her coat.

Margaret turned to John as she stood on the first step of the stairs. “So, you are going then?” she asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Yes, but I’ll see you next week. Fred asked if I would escort you and Fran to the pub on Friday night.” John was pleased to see Margaret smile at the news. He stepped forward and put his arms very gently around her waist and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Margaret, I’ve really enjoyed our time together tonight. Thank you for my scarf, too.” Then he kissed her very lightly on her cheek before turning and walking to the front door where Fran was waiting with Adam. 

“Good night, Adam, and thanks again for inviting us. We had a great time.” John and Fran walked outside, John smiling to himself. He could still feel the warmth of her hands where she had put them on his arms. She shivered again, and she was definitely not cold.


	20. A Long Weekend - John

John spent the week updating some of the algorithms used in the program installed at Hamper’s office. He finished all of his grading for the courses, spent quality time with his mother and Aunt Belle, and looked forward to almost three weeks of ‘vacation’ time before the next semester started. And now, he was leaving early to get ready for this evening, he would see her in two hours. A hot shower and a very careful shave were in order.

John had been looking forward to this evening all week. Fran said the Boys would be playing from 8:00 till 1:00 in the morning, and that she and Margaret wanted to be there by 7:30 so they could get a table. John told Fran he would pick Margaret up first, without saying he wanted at least some time alone with her before everyone else got her attention, “then I’ll come for you. By the way, what are the plans for tomorrow night? Fred didn’t ask me, and I have that stag night anyway, I can’t be there. Do you have someone?”

“Vic and Kit are our escorts tomorrow night,” Fran said, laughing. “No one would dare come near us with Vic at our table.”

“Wait a minute, Fran. There’s no way you should be on a motorcycle in this weather. There is ice and snow on the streets. I don’t … ” 

Fran interrupted quickly. “No, John, don’t worry. Uncle Adam is driving us there, and will pick us up later. Vic and Kit will be with us in the pub, not driving us. And what stag night, hmm? I don’t remember hearing about that?”

“Oh, my first roommate, Ken Wilson, do you remember him? Short, blonde, nervous laugh? He’s getting married New Year’s Day and his stag night is tomorrow night. I have to go, although I can’t think of a worse night for such a thing.” John wouldn’t tell Fran what he was guessing about the evening’s entertainment. If what the best man had in mind was hooking up with professional strippers, or even prostitutes, John wouldn’t stick around.

“And why they want to get married on New Year’s Day, I can’t imagine. But then, no one asked my opinion, I’m just a guest, so … . I’m taking Ann to the wedding and reception. Anyway, I’ll pick you up at 7:15 tonight, and watch what you wear, please. I have a very vivid memory of that outfit you were going to wear to the Boys’ debut two months ago.” John smiled as he hung up. I wonder what Margaret will be wearing tonight?

John walked in the door of his apartment and just stood in the entry, looking critically about him, wondering if it would be a good idea to invite Margaret here. Ann had helped John decorate when he first purchased it, he hadn’t wanted it to look like a college student’s off campus lair, but more like a home. What would Margaret think? What would Fred and Adam think? Hmmm, hadn’t thought of that, had you? John had brought dates here before of course, but those women were … What? Is Margaret simply too young, or am I too nervous? What would she think of me, asking her here? Well, it won’t be tonight, we’ll be getting home very late.

John dressed in black jeans and a fitted black turtleneck sweater. The return to swimming had toned him, taking off the three or four pounds he’d added when he had stopped exercising regularly, and the clothes fit him just so. He hesitated briefly when he looked in the mirror. Wait a minute, you’ll remind her of Guy! And then he chuckled, deciding he wouldn’t mind the comparison, he looked better than Guy tonight. 

He rang the bell at Adam’s house at 7:00, almost humming in anticipation. Adam opened the door and invited him in, saying Margaret would be down soon. Adam offered John a soft drink, but John declined; he was too nervous to drink anything. This wasn’t a date, his sister would be in the car with them within fifteen minutes, and there would be dozens of people around them all evening, but John was having ‘first date nerves’ anyway.

He heard a noise on the stairs and turned around to see Margaret coming down. She was wearing grey flannel trousers and a finely knit black jumper that fit loosely and came down almost to her thighs. All the color was in her green eyes and her deep auburn hair, which was now about four inches long and in loose curls. 

John stepped forward and said, “Margaret, you look lovely. Lovely? Oh, get a grip, John! Are you ready to go?”

“Yes. Oh, John, thank you for helping us tonight. Almost everyone has left for the holidays and Fran and I didn’t want to have to ask Uncle Adam, it’s not really his thing.” Margaret laughed, and John smiled. Margaret spent the car ride talking about the Boys, and telling John all of the ‘sweet’ things Fred and Adam had done for her for the holiday.

***

“Fran, what would you two like to drink?” They had gotten to the pub in time to grab a large table in the center of the room. Margaret had told John that several friends were coming and some would be sitting with them, so they needed the room. Vic had already come by and asked Margaret to play pool and she had gone into the other room.

“Pint of bitter for me, thanks, John,” Fran said without looking up, studiously perusing the menu.

“Fran … ” he growled. She looked up and laughed, and said she and Margaret would both have tonic water with a twist. 

The pub was packed the entire night, the Boys being a known quantity at the pub now. There were eight people at their table. John lost his seat next to Margaret very early on when he went to get drinks, and Vic had dragged a chair from another table to sit right behind her and talk to her half the night. John didn’t bother to ask Margaret to dance; he’d seen three other men ask and get turned down very politely. John enjoyed the music and the camaraderie, but he was definitely ready to go by 1:00 am when the Boys finished. It had been loud all night, and he’d had very little time with Margaret, none of it alone.

“Fran, tell Mother I’ll come by after the wedding reception Sunday evening. Have a good time tomorrow night,” John said as he gave Fran a kiss on the cheek when he dropped her off at home. “Okay, Margaret, time to get you home. Why don’t you sit up front with me?” Margaret had sat in back with Fran so they could whisper to each other about the evening and now she came to sit in the front seat. “Are you tired?” And just what do you plan to suggest if she says she isn’t?

“Yes. Uncle Adam and I were busy all day, making plans for Sunday and Monday. Of course, he called your mother to make sure Fran could go with us.”

“What are you talking about, where are you going?” This was the first John had heard of a trip, and he was surprised his mother had agreed, if it meant Fran would be staying away overnight.

Margaret didn’t answer right away. And then, very quietly, she said, “We’re going to my old house, and we’re staying over to see Jared.” He looked over and saw her biting her lower lip and glancing sideways at him.

“Jared! The same Jared who … ?” John knew Margaret had gone to a therapist since the abduction. He looked over at her now, and saw her frowning. “Margaret, I’m sorry, I’m just concerned about you, and Fran.”

“John, I worry about Jared. His family shun him. He has no one, because of me. No, no, don’t say it, I know it’s not my fault. But I feel sorry for him and want to help him if I can. We’re going to visit, and Mrs. Thornton agreed to Fran going, so please, John, please don’t ask her to change her mind. Fred and Uncle Adam will be there and Jared, well, he would never hurt us.” 

John pulled up in front of Adam’s house. He walked around and opened the door for Margaret, and they walked up the steps to the front door. Margaret turned to him, and he saw something in her eyes, something he couldn’t quite place. Now or never, John. He leaned over, putting his large hand on her cheek, his long fingers splayed from her temple to her chin, and then hesitated, looking again to see if she seemed frightened, ill at ease, aghast - no. He kissed her very lightly on the lips, and his breath caught at the sensation of touching her lips. As he pulled away, he opened his eyes and saw the blush, and the shining eyes, and then she leaned forward, reaching out and tracing her fingers across his jaw as she had done once before. She just stared at him, her face inches from his, a smile spreading slowly across her face.

“Good night, John.” And then she was gone.

***

John sighed. He had such ambivalent feelings about this evening. He genuinely liked Ken and was happy for him, perhaps a bit envious as well if he was being honest with himself. Ken had found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and John wished he could say the same. He had his hopes now, but it was early days. He was glad to be able to celebrate this event with Ken, but stag nights, well, he hoped it would be fun, but wasn’t counting on it. Unfortunately, in his experience most events which were men only and involved lots of alcohol weren’t fun, especially this particular group. Well, maybe they’ve grown up and no one will get falling down drunk.

John hadn’t seen most of the men since they had graduated more than two years earlier. He had enjoyed their company as an undergraduate, although he found he could stand the best man Keith in small doses only. Some times when none of them were seeing anyone in particular, Keith’s idea of group fun was to pick up local women in bars and take them back to the dorm to watch porn. John had been part of the group just once, remembering very early in the evening a pressing commitment he’d forgotten.

Most of the talk in the bar involved work, who was making how much, who still lived at home or with a roommate because they hadn’t gone beyond entry level at work yet. Some of the men were amazed that John was teaching at Mills. Without mentioning his mother, they said they’d thought he would have moved some distance away as soon as he finished his degree. 

And of course the rest of the conversation was about women: women they had known or knew or hoped to know; at work, at school, at random; sexual encounters they’d had, each trying to top the other; numbers of conquests of unbelievable proportions. As the evening wore on and the bar tab climbed, some of the men turned out to have been downright irresistible to almost every single woman they’d ever known. And they wonder why they aren’t married! Were they this boorish when we were all together at university; was I a boor too? Am I just being insufferably superior, or am I one of the few who has grown up? Good grief, I have grown up, haven’t I?

After a short but extremely uncomfortable time in the bitter cold watching the ball descend in Times Square on a large tv screen several blocks away from the actual event, they walked into the lobby of a nearby hotel and picked up the key cards to two suites. John was glad to see real food on tables along the wall as he walked into the lounge of the first suite. The only food they’d had so far had been bar snacks, and he was starving. 

John filled a plate with penne and shrimp and then looked around as he sat down. He saw a large screen tv in both rooms. Uh-oh. Hope we’re not watching any of Keith’s videos or pay tv of his choosing. John sat down with Preston and they started talking about programming and Preston’s dissatisfaction with his IT job. He was the newest employee at a large company and as such, was assigned the least challenging problems.

“Ability doesn’t matter, John, it’s totally frustrating,” he moaned as he tackled a large plate of chicken parm.

“Preston, you designed several programs while we were at school. Have you thought of going into business for yourself, designing, licencing your own product?” John asked, knowing the answer already. Preston had never had any confidence in himself, he wasn’t a businessman, an entrepreneur, he was an employee. John just listened to him, knowing Preston really just wanted someone to moan to, he didn’t want an actual change in his life.

And then the door to the suite opened and three women walked in. Well, strutted in. John took one look at them and the clothes they had on, and rolled his eyes. He just waited, perhaps it wasn’t what he thought. Then he saw Keith putting a dvd in the player in the next room, stripping off his shirt and reaching for one of the women. John thought back to just twenty four hours earlier. Okay, I don’t think so. I know what I want, and she’s not here. John found Ken and told him he’d see him at the church in the afternoon and he slipped out of the suite without talking to anyone else. 

***

“So, tell me about her,” Ann said, smiling. They had finally sat down at their assigned table at the reception, and Ken and Tracey had not made their appearance yet. 

“Who?” John said, frowning. He hadn’t said anything to Ann about anyone, what was she on about. Although John had looked forward to seeing Ann today, he wanted to talk to her about Margaret, he wanted a woman’s perspective, on … what? What can you tell her, you haven’t even gone out together. And you remember what she thought of Margaret the only time she saw her. They had spent the entire afternoon talking about Fran and Jamie, and Ken and Tracey. Oh, and of course, Tracey’s dress, as if John cared anything about that. But Ann was working as a buyer for the largest clothing store in town and she had a business interest in what other women wore, so John suffered as politely as he could through an excruciatingly detailed description of the white - oh, excuse me, Ann - pale ivory ‘creation’.

“The woman you’re seeing, of course,” Ann said. She raised her eyebrows at John, who was just shaking his head. “John, we’ve known each other for three years. I can see it, in the way you’re distracted by everything, you wish you were somewhere else, or at least with someone else.” She laughed as John blushed and started to apologize for not paying her enough attention. “No, don’t worry, John, you haven’t been rude, someone who didn’t know you as well probably wouldn’t have even noticed. I just met someone myself and it would be great if he were here, but that wasn’t possible. So, I repeat, tell me about her.”

John blushed again, and said, “You first.”

“Okay, I met Franco at work. He just started at the store two months ago, he’s a buyer in the men’s department, a new position, they’d had women doing it, and they decided to go male and European to shake things up and get a more modern style in.”

“Ann,” John said, chuckling, “you’re just talking business. What’s he like, how old is he, does he treat you well?”

“Ah. What’s he like? Well, he’s almost as tall as you, brown hair, brown eyes, with the most gorgeous body... ” Ann stopped and laughed as John raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Hey, women appreciate a good body too, you know. He’s 28, comes from Naples, but has worked in the States for five years. We’ve gone out just four times, but … Yes, he treats me very well indeed, and we’re making progress at work as well. He’s been floating some ideas to our department heads about coordinating some of the men’s and women’s collections, so we may be working together even more closely.” 

John was watching Ann as she talked, and he could see the glow in her face as she talked about him. “So, when do I meet this Franco?”

“Wait a minute. What about the woman you’re seeing? Don’t think you’re getting away without telling me, I’m not that easily distracted.” Ann looked up and smiled at another couple who were seating themselves at their table. She lowered her voice. “Come on, John, the last time I saw you, you were moaning about having no personal life. I listened to the moaning, now I want to hear the good stuff. Anything juicy to tell me?”

John took a deep breath. “Actually, I haven’t been on a date in quite some time, I can’t even remember the last time. But, I am interested in someone.” He hesitated again. “You did see her once, Margaret, she’s one of Fran’s roommates.” 

John saw Ann’s eyebrows go up and then the smallest frown on her face. “Do you mean that …” Ann hesitated, she had been about to say child, “young woman with really short hair, about the size of a very slim toothpick?”

“I know you think she’s a bit young, but she’s almost 19. Franco is four years older than you, and you don’t see that as a problem, do you? Anyway, Margaret’s gained weight, and … . Oh, I don’t know, Ann. I worry about the age thing myself, and she’s very … well, innocent isn’t the right word, but she was brought up isolated from other people, she’s never been on a date,” and then John blushed and grinned, “but I did kiss her Friday night.”

“I take it that went well. What did she say?” Ann wanted John to be happy; it hadn’t worked out between them the way she wanted it to, but he was one of the good guys. If this Margaret made him happy, Ann wanted it to work.

“She smiled. Arrgh, what does that mean? It was 1:30 in the morning, we’d been out in a huge crowd all night with her friends, she was tired, it was her first kiss - she smiled.” John sighed. “Enough of my sitting here moaning. Let’s dance; I can moan on my feet just as well.” 

John and Ann spent the next three hours talking with friends, dancing, and quietly telling each other about the sterling qualities of a very young woman and a charming Italian man.


	21. A Long Weekend - Margaret

Margaret had been looking forward to this evening all week. She was eager to hear the Boys play again, and to get out with her friends, but even better - John was going to be there. She found herself smiling all day, thinking about seeing him again. He had been so nice to her at the party, he’d paid her more attention, talked to her more than ever before. She hoped it was because he was seeing her for herself, not just being polite to Fran’s roommate, to Adam’s daughter.

She didn’t have anyone to talk to about him though. She couldn’t talk to Fran. If John didn’t like her the way she hoped, she didn’t want Fran to know her disappointment, it was too awkward. She had talked to Fred about him some time ago, but Fred had just chuckled, saying John was a bit old for her and Guy really liked her. She sighed. Guy. Guy was sweet and nice and good looking. But … her pulse didn’t race when she saw him, her breath didn’t quicken, she didn’t feel warm all over. Her body felt different when she saw John, even when she just thought about him!

Margaret heard the doorbell, and smiled broadly. Okay, okay, be calm. Margaret walked to the top of the stairs and saw him standing in the foyer, dressed all in black. She was surprised, that look was so Guy, but John looked even better. She went down, and then was so nervous, she talked non-stop all the way over to pick up Fran.

They found a table as soon as they arrived, and then Margaret went into the pool room to play a game with Vic, leaving John and Fran at the table. It became so crowded in the pub that there wasn’t room for everyone to sit. She spent some time standing close to the stage, listening to the Boys, and when she was sitting, Vic was talking to her most of the night. She couldn’t help notice several other young women were flirting with John during the evening. She didn’t blame them, he looked so good tonight, and she thought they were all prettier than she, all able to talk so much more easily, all able to dance. She felt childish in comparison to most other women, and hoped John wasn’t thinking the same thing.

***

Alone again, in the car. Margaret wasn’t sure what to talk about, so she talked about what she was doing the rest of the weekend. She hadn’t realized that Fran hadn’t mentioned the trip to John, and he sounded upset.

Margaret didn’t answer John right away. No one understands, not even Uncle Adam and Fred, not really. They don’t realize how close I came … What would have happened if they hadn’t found me in the hospital? Or if they had found me but didn’t want me? That’s where Jared is now. His family knows where he is, but they don’t want him. Margaret blinked back the threatening tears. 

And then, very quietly, she said, “We’re going to my old house, and we’re staying over to see Jared.”

“John, I worry about Jared. His family shun him. He has no one, because of me.” She saw him about to protest. “No, no, don’t say it, I know it’s not my fault. But I feel sorry for him and want to help him if I can. We’re going to visit, and Mrs. Thornton agreed to Fran going, so please, John, please don’t ask her to change her mind. Fred and Uncle Adam will be there and Jared, well, he would never hurt us.”

They rode the rest of the way home in silence, Margaret wondering what John was thinking, if he was just relieved his escort duty was almost over. She had no idea, he had barely spoken to her all evening. She didn’t know how to dance, she had turned down other men who asked, but - she would have tried for him, she’d hoped he’d ask, but he hadn’t. Margaret kept trying to remember all the things Edith had talked about, how to know if a boy, man, liked you, how to let him know you liked him, how to flirt, or was it how to play hard to get? - it was hopeless! She couldn’t sort it all out, but she was too shy to just tell him she liked him.

John walked her to the front door and then turned to look at her. Margaret had watched him the whole night. Now she looked right up into his eyes, please, look at me, see me! And she saw him slowly reach out and touch her. His hand - it feels wonderful, warm, soft, tender. He was looking at her again, with a question in his eyes. And then he kissed her. She stopped breathing as his lips touched hers, soft, sweet. Gentle and brief.

John pulled back and Margaret looked into those blue eyes. She reached up to touch his face, as she had done once before, and thought, he kissed me, me, he mustn’t think I’m a little girl. She couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading across her face. And then - What should I do? I don’t know what to do.

She took her hand away, said good night, and went inside, smiling, confused, but walking on a cloud.

***

Margaret woke up slowly, her eyes squinting at the brilliant sun coming though the open curtains. She groaned as she saw the time. It was very late morning, why hadn’t someone called her? And then she remembered last night - John! He kissed me! She giggled. My first ever kiss and from the perfect person. And then she sighed, and the smile disappeared, to be replaced by a frown. What happens now? What should I say when I see him?

Margaret knew kissing wasn’t considered something serious by most people. Some of the students seemed to have a new boyfriend every week or so, and kissed every one of them, of course. Edith told her lots of girls she knew did things beyond kissing. Margaret could tell Edith wasn’t sure how much she should say, but Margaret wasn’t shocked. She knew all about sex, her father had talked to her and answered every question she thought to ask, she just didn’t know anything about men and women and how they actually got from kissing to … the rest. 

But she did wonder how those girls, and boys, knew it was the right person. And not right just for a week either. Margaret thought about something that had surprised her in a talk she’d had with her father. He’d always said sex was something special between two people, and he hoped that when she married, she would realize how special it was. But then there had been that day when the discussion seemed different, her father’s tone had been different. Sometimes, he said, you found a special person and you didn’t marry, sometimes you didn’t stay together. And he said that didn’t make what you did together less special or wrong. It was only recently that she realized her father was really talking about her mother, and about what Margaret might think of her mother if she ever found out about her brother.

And then it occurred to her, John was several years older than she - has John met anyone special? Maybe he … he’s probably had more than kisses … he’s probably … had sex. Margaret slowly exhaled, turning that thought over in her mind. Does that mean … ?

***

“Vic, you don’t have a problem with tonight, do you?” Vic had dropped by the house. He needed to talk, and he couldn’t do it with everyone around them the night before.

“No, Margaret, tonight’s taken care of. I wanted to ask a favor. I think my niece will be coming tonight and I was hoping you and Fran might, well, be friends, if she’ll let you. She’s a bit of a handful. Her parents were at their wits’ end, she dropped out of high school early this month, just refused to go anymore and moved into some boy’s house without his parents even knowing. She was kicked out by them two days ago. Mom and I took her in, on the condition that she start back to school next week and behave herself.” 

Vic spent another half hour talking about Davina, who called herself Dave. She had moved with her parents from a large city to a nearby suburb last summer and knew no one at school. She dressed differently, and she had been shunned by the other students. In defiance, she dressed even more extremely, Vic said goth, though Margaret didn’t know what that meant, and then she withdrew from her parents as well.

“Margaret, I know she’s a good kid under all the black clothes and make up. I don’t know if I’m asking too much, but you and Fran are the only normal girls I know. Most of my women friends are … well, not what you’d call friendly to high school kids, especially girls,” he added sheepishly. 

Margaret smiled. She was remembering her sudden immersion at Mills, dressed differently from everyone else, no friends, not knowing anything about going to school. Davina might have been opposite to Margaret in some ways, but Margaret understood being a total outsider and friendless. “Vic, we’ll do whatever we can, I promise.”

***

Fran and Margaret had been sitting with Kit while the Boys played their third set. The pub was jammed, just as busy as the night before, and most of the crowd were waiting for midnight for a noisy celebration. Margaret told Fran she was going to teach her how to play pool, and they got up and went into the pool room, where they saw her in the corner. 

Davina was a vision in black. Her black hair was obviously dyed, sticking out in every direction, and she had outlined her eyes with layers and layers of black mascara, eyeliner and shadow; black lipstick and nail polish completed the look. She wore a very short black denim skirt, a black tee and black boots. She stared as Margaret and Fran walked in, and then turned away from everyone, picking at threads on her skirt.

Margaret and Vic started Fran’s lesson in pool playing. Fran was not a natural, and they were all laughing pretty quickly at her miscues, Fran included. “Davina, would you play with us? We could use some help with Fran,” Margaret called over to her. Davina gave a quick shake of her head, refusing to get up, but she did turn to watch them. Fran attempted several more shots, and they were laughing so hard Margaret almost fell over. She saw Davina trying to hide a smile, and walked over to sit with her, letting Vic continue the lesson.

“Davina, I’m Margaret. Your uncle Vic has been a good friend to me. We’re going back into the other room. Why don’t you sit with us while we wait for the countdown?” To Margaret’s surprise, Davina got up and went with them to their table. The pub manager had asked the Boys to take a long break starting fifteen minutes before midnight. There was a large flat screen tv to watch the Times Square celebration at midnight, and he wanted to make sure patrons had enough time to order drinks before the moment. 

Guy found Margaret at a table with Vic, Fran and Davina. “Margaret, this is your first New Year’s Eve out, isn’t it?” There were no chairs to be found, so Guy pulled Margaret up from her chair, sat down and pulled her onto his lap, putting his arm around her waist. “There, much better. How did we sound tonight?”

They tried to talk over the noise, but weren’t successful, as everyone in the pub seemed to be talking and shouting at once. As the countdown began for midnight, Guy put his arm around Margaret more closely, and reached up with his other hand to her cheek, guiding her face closer to his. “Happy New Year, Margaret,” he whispered, and then kissed her very gently. He saw the blush on Margaret’s face, smiled and then kissed her again. “Oh, Margaret, you are so sweet.”

Guy chuckled when Margaret’s blush deepened. “Don’t worry, Margaret, I know we’re just good friends, but I couldn’t resist a kiss from the sweetest girl I know.” He saw Margaret’s look of surprise. “I look like him, I know, but that isn’t enough, is it?” Margaret opened her mouth to protest, embarrassed, and Guy smiled. “Margaret, I saw the two of you at the party, the way he said good night to you, and then the way you watched each other all night last night, even though you weren’t together. He’s the one you want, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Guy. I’m sorry.” Margaret put her arms around Guy and hugged him, and then he left to get ready for the Boys’ next set. Margaret turned and saw Davina staring at Guy as he walked away, biting her lower lip. Hmmm. And then she noticed Fran grinning from ear to ear. Fred had kissed her at midnight and she was over the moon. And she had seen Guy kiss Margaret, and she couldn’t wait to talk to her about their first kisses. 

Margaret and Fran talked later in the dark in Margaret’s room. Margaret was too embarrassed to tell Fran that Guy’s kiss wasn’t her first, that her first had been the night before and she hadn’t shared the tale with Fran. But she was so happy to hear that Fran did like Fred and it appeared to be mutual. Could both of us be in love with the man who gave us our first kiss? In love?… Is that what this feeling is?

***

Adam looked in the rear view mirror, both Fran and Margaret were sleeping. Fran had stayed overnight in Margaret’s room and he could hear them talking and laughing well past two this morning. He smiled and then thought again how sorry he was that he and Fred hadn’t known Margaret as she was growing up, thinking of all they’d missed.

He and Fred had both argued with Margaret when she first proposed this trip. He knew her reasoning, and knew that she had felt guilty about Jared, particularly when he was still in jail. He knew Margaret had arranged for Jared’s bail, and offered him the farmhouse as a place to live. She tried to make them understand how much like herself Jared was, but they had trouble seeing past the trauma of her abduction. Welcoming Jared with open arms was not going to be easy for them, but they were going to try to follow Margaret’s lead. 

But Adam took one precaution, brooking no argument from Margaret. “Margaret, what if Jared’s family find out he’s coming to visit, and that you’re here and unprotected? What if they are crazy enough to try that again? I refuse to take that chance.” He called police headquarters in her home town, and arranged for two off duty police officers to be available at the farm the afternoon Jared was visiting.

Jared had lived at the farmhouse for just three days, and then had been taken in by the man for whom he worked as a carpenter’s apprentice for the past four years. Mr Fallon and his wife knew his family situation and felt sorry for him. They’d agreed that Jared could live with them while he waited to see what the court would do.

Mrs Stephens, who was visiting her daughter for the weekend, had left them plenty of food. Margaret hadn’t wanted to sell the farmhouse, she wasn’t ready yet to let go of the last thing that connected her to her parents. Mr Slickson had recommended Mrs Stephens as a tenant/caretaker. She was a middle aged widow who wasn’t ready to go live with her children, but needed a home after her husband died. So the farmhouse was occupied, which satisfied the insurance company, and someone was there when workers came, so it worked for both of them.

“Wow, Margaret, this was your room?” Fran looked around, wondering how she would have liked living here. She knew she wouldn’t have, she knew she complained about her mother, but she loved her and she’d had her brother and her friends, and school, and so much more than Margaret. She looked around the tiny room. The paneling had been removed, the walls painted, but the spare furnishings hadn’t been changed. Mr Slickson and Mr Hamper told Margaret that the house would need substantial work before being sold, and quite a number of upgrades had already been done. But for some reason she couldn’t explain, Margaret had thought of projects for almost every room in the house, but not her own room. She wanted to remember how things had been.

Margaret saw the small truck drive up to the house. She looked at Fred and Uncle Adam. “Jared and I are going to talk for a while,” she said, and then she walked outside and got into the truck. 

“Dad, he could just drive off with her!” Fred wanted to go outside with Margaret, and Adam held him back.

“Fred, she trusts him. I’m nervous, too, but we have to let her do this. Jared is important to her, she sees herself when she was alone after the accident. This is who your sister is, kind to others, even those who have hurt her. I’m glad she’s like that, and I know you are too, even though we worry. You saw the officers at the gate, she’ll be okay, so let’s leave her to it. Come on out of the doorway, let’s visit with Fran.” Fred reluctantly shut the door on Margaret and Jared talking in the truck, and went and sat where he could see out the window, keeping the truck in sight.

***

“How are you? Are you doing well where you’re living? Have you seen your mother?” Margaret knew she was asking too many questions at once, but she had been so worried about him.

“I’ve been good, Margaret. I like living with the Fallons. It’s been quite a revelation, seeing how other people live. My mother never questioned my father about things, but the Fallons, well, they talk about everything, and decide things together, and even ask my opinion. My father always said he knew best, I don’t know, he was wrong about what we did, so … .” Jared looked at her and sighed. “I haven’t seen my mother. I tried calling, but she hung up on me.”

Margaret reached over and covered his large hand with her small one. “I’m so sorry that you’ve lost your family because of me, Jared.”

“Margaret, we both know that’s not what happened. I lost my family because of my father’s actions, and mine. I don’t regret talking to the police. I knew what we did, what I did, was wrong, I had to talk to them. If my parents won’t accept me because of that, well, I have to live with that. It’s a lot easier than living with knowing how much I hurt you.” He paused for a long time, then said quietly, “You know, sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been.” He stopped and laughed. “That sounds strange, doesn’t it? Me, lucky? But you’re safe, with your family, you’ve forgiven me, I have a place to live, I have work. I do miss my family, my brothers and sisters. Maybe, one day … I’ve lost a lot, Margaret, but I’ve gained too, and I can’t undo what’s done, so … ” He sighed heavily.

“Jared, come in and meet my family. I want you to know them, and my friend Fran. And Mrs Stephens left dinner for us. Come on.” Margaret and Jared walked into the house, and found three sets of eyes on them as they walked in to the lounge. “Jared, this is my friend and roommate, Fran. You know my Uncle Adam, but you haven’t met my brother Fred.” Jared held out his hand to Fred and Fred took it, staring at the man in front of him. Jared met Fred’s stare and flushed, shifting awkwardly as they stood in the lounge. 

It took a while, it was awkward for everyone at first, but Fred and Uncle Adam started asking Jared about his work and where he was living. Once Fred found out Jared had an interest in soccer, the discussion took off from there, the men talking sports. Fran and Margaret went into the kitchen to heat the food Mrs Stephens had left and then they all sat in the dining room, talking and eating, almost, almost like a family. Margaret smiled, thinking there had never been this many people in this house eating a meal together.

That night, long after Jared had left, Margaret hugged Uncle Adam as she was saying good night, thanking him for taking her in, for all his help, for coming this weekend, for trying to understand Jared. “I love you, Uncle Adam.”


	22. Dinner with the Thorntons, Again

Hannah finished straightening the tablecloth, and hesitated in the doorway. “Thank you, Belle,” she said quietly.

Belle, placing a stack of china on the table, looked up in surprise and smiled at her sister. “You’re welcome, Hannah. For what?”

“For coming. For staying. For putting up with me. I know it wasn’t easy, I’m not easy. But I’m really glad you’re here.” Hannah sighed, and thought of what else she should say. She hadn’t wanted Belle here at first, and they both knew it. She didn’t like change, she didn’t welcome it, she fought against it. But Belle coming had made such a difference in her life, a wonderful difference, one she hadn’t been able to admit at first. 

The preparations they were making now for tonight’s dinner were part of that difference. Hannah could have counted on the fingers of one hand the times guests had sat at her dining table in the past three years, but once Belle came, things had changed. Now they had someone to lunch, dinner or tea at least once or twice every week, usually more often. And, even more important, her children liked to come home to see her, rather than coming only because it was a duty. 

Oh, it hadn’t happened overnight. She had been so afraid of losing them, to school, to work, to friends, to her sister, so afraid that they would prefer anyone else to her. And as she looked back, she realized she gave them every reason to prefer others. She remembered the awkwardness meeting their friends, how defensive she’d been, how critical of everything and everyone. And then, in spite of everything, Fran had turned to her when her roommate had been taken, Fran had wanted her to hold her and comfort her. And she realized then that her children both loved her and would never leave her. They would always need their mother; they were growing up, not growing away.

“You … brought my son and daughter back to me. I had lost John and I knew I was going to lose Fran. I knew when John bought his apartment it was because he didn’t want to live here any more, and I was sure if Fran lived in a dorm, she’d never come home again. That’s why I didn’t want her to go. I was doing all the wrong things because I was afraid of losing them, and I wound up just pushing them away.” She stood there, shaking her head. “Just as I did with George,” she said quietly.

“Hannah, you brought them back. Yes, I think I helped, and am glad of it, but they wouldn’t be calling you, be coming home so often, if they didn’t love you, and know you loved them. Letting go a bit has let them see the real you, and that’s who they love.” 

“I envy you,” Belle said softly, and then laughed when she saw the startled look on Hannah’s face. “Hannah, you have two wonderful children, something I wished for and never had. Yes, I had Andrew, but it was a regret for us both that we didn’t have children. It was the main reason I came here when John asked, so I could see Fran and John more.” She walked over to where Hannah was standing and put her arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. “And now I have my sister, too. What more could I ask for?”

Belle knew how difficult it had been for Hannah, how unsure she had been of letting Fran live away from home. It helped that John was so close, and that Fran had never had a boyfriend in high school. But now, this little overnight trip she’d agreed to, well, that had been a big step for Hannah. One of her greatest fears was the attraction she knew Fran felt for Fred. Belle smiled, knowing what her sister’s reaction would have been to such a trip just three months ago. The thought of them spending the night together had unnerved her at first, but Belle had helped talk her through it. After all, Adam Bell would be there, and the girls would be sharing a room.

Now, the travelers would be home in another hour, and Margaret would be staying overnight with Fran. Hannah remembered her only meeting with Margaret with acute embarrassment now. She knew Fran had quickly become very close to Margaret, another black mark against her in Hannah’s mind when she first met her. At the time Hannah had viewed all such relationships as threats to her own relationship with Fran. She had thought if Fran loved someone else, she would have to love her mother less, by comparison at least. 

Hannah couldn’t remember when such feelings had started, it was so long ago. She couldn’t remember why she began to feel embattled, that if her children loved anyone else, even their father, they wouldn’t love her. She knew they were capable of loving many people, but that was in her heart. Her head had told her different things, and she had listened. That had changed, she could see more clearly now. She felt different now, free, not worrying constantly about being alone, with no one caring for her. She knew she had the love of her son, her daughter, and her sister. And she knew now, absolutely knew, that things were only going to get better. 

Things had started to change shortly after Belle moved in; having Belle in the house meant there was constant activity, and Hannah found that complaining got her nowhere. In spite of herself, she began to enjoy the increased company, the afternoon teas, the piano playing. But the biggest change started after that Thanksgiving week that had started so horribly and ended happily. She and Belle had started having long talks, many of them about what they wanted for her children, their children, as Belle gently teased Hannah. Fran to finish college, of course, to find a satisfying job, to have her own family eventually. But she was still so young; they talked more about John. He had been so successful in school, in work, he was financially secure with his business, but … They both saw him as a dutiful son, doing all of the right things for his family, but what was he doing for himself, to make himself happy?

Hannah had told Belle that there had been someone special, about four years earlier, a young woman John was very serious about. He had never told her what happened, what had gone wrong, but there had been months when he had seemed to be in a deep depression. He worked hard, studied hard, made no complaints, but sometimes, when he didn’t know anyone was watching him, she had seen a deeply unhappy look on his face. At the time, her thoughts were selfish - he wasn’t leaving her, no one else had a claim on him. But now, she realized he must have been in love and the woman hadn’t loved him. She told Belle now that she wished she had been able to comfort him at the time. 

“Hannah, I don’t know that any young men actually seek comfort or advice from their mother when a love affair goes wrong, so you might not have been able to do or even say anything to help. None of us get it right all the time, let’s work on now. Now, John needs to spend a bit less time with his family and work, and concentrate on a girlfriend. So, any candidates we know of? Any other teachers he talks about? What about the woman he went to the wedding with?”

***

“John, don’t just sit there, help your Aunt Belle.” John looked up in surprise, his mother didn’t usually want him to help with domestic things. “Sitting here with a long face won’t get you a girlfriend,” Hannah muttered, shaking her head at him and trying to hide a smile. Now John was positively astonished.

“Mother, since when are you interested in me having a girlfriend?” he asked.

“Well, your Aunt Belle and I talked last night after you left, and decided it’s time you thought about marriage. We think we’d really like some younger Thorntons around here.”

John had stopped by after the wedding reception the night before, and Aunt Belle and Hannah had asked about the wedding and party, and whether he’d had a good time. John had reluctantly admitted, after some coaxing from Aunt Belle, that he was a little envious of his old roommate. “I would like to have someone special in my life. Sometimes I think … ” John stopped, not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings, or to reveal too much of his own doubts about whether he would be able to develop a relationship with Margaret. His memory of Hannah’s comments about Margaret was vivid.

“So, you talk about me when I’m not here, do you?” he said to his mother.

“Of course we do. You and Fran are our primary topics of conversation. What do you expect? You’re not getting any younger, John, and if all you do is work, work, work, and just come and visit family, how are you going to find that special someone, hmm?” As Hannah walked out of the room, John stared at Aunt Belle, his mouth open in astonishment.

Aunt Belle just laughed. “Things are changing, John, you’ve got to keep up. So, how about the woman you went to the wedding with? Anything promising there?” 

“We’re just friends, Aunt Belle. We dated in college, but it didn’t get serious. She’s seeing someone now, I hope it works out for her. I, … I am thinking about someone, but … it’s really early, we haven’t even had a date, so nothing to tell you. And no, I’m not going to tell you her name, or anything else, so please don’t ask,” he said, as he saw her getting ready to grill him.

***

“Who was kissing you?” Hannah asked immediately. Aunt Belle had asked Fran what she seemed so happy about, sitting at the dinner table and almost humming as she ate, barely able to sit still. And then Fran had announced with a big smile that she and Margaret had both had their first kiss on New Year’s Eve. John stopped, fork half way to his mouth, and looked across the table at Margaret. She was looking fixedly at her plate, biting her lower lip, blushing. John put his fork back down and waited, staring at her, but she wouldn’t look up.

“Fred, of course. The band took a long break before midnight and Fred and Guy came to our table, but there weren’t any seats, so Fred and I stood together near the tv, and he kissed me when the ball came down.” Fran beamed at them. “And Margaret was sitting on Guy’s lap when he kissed her.” Everyone’s eyes turned to Margaret and she closed her eyes as her face turned red. “But then Uncle Adam came just a few minutes later to take us home, so we didn’t stay for the rest of the songs.” Fran sighed happily, remembering the evening.

Now Aunt Belle and Hannah looked back at Margaret, who hadn’t said a word yet. “So, Margaret dear,” said Aunt Belle, “are you fond of Guy?”

“Yes, Mrs. Sullivan, I am. Guy is very sweet, but we are just friends.” Margaret was looking up now, but still avoiding John’s gaze.

“Just friends? Not from what I saw,” Fran said, raising her eyebrows and grinning.

John felt an ache; he had been jealous of Guy before, and this news hadn’t lessened that feeling one bit. Guy. Of course. But, what else happened? Did she just smile, as she did with me, or did she kiss him back? And, she was sitting on his lap. How did that come about? He still couldn’t get Margaret to look at him, and that was worrying. Is it because she enjoyed Guy’s kiss more? Is she embarrassed she kissed me in the first place? But she didn’t kiss me, did she, I kissed her. Look at me, Margaret, please!

Later, they were all sitting in the living room and talk turned to what the next semester would bring for the girls and for John. John was still teaching just two courses, one a follow on from a course just finished, the other a new class. Fran was taking the second semester of all of the classes she had already started, all with the same professors. All eyes turned to Margaret, who had not finished the only two classes she had started four months earlier.

“Have you chosen which classes you will take, Margaret?” Hannah asked. “Is it going to be difficult for you, not having been able to finish your courses?”

Margaret didn’t know what had happened since her last meal here, but she felt that Hannah had somehow changed her mind about her and might actually like her. “Well, Mrs. Thornton, I need to finish those two courses, but I’m not sure what the professors will require for completion so that I could go ahead and take the second semester of those classes. I’ll find out next week. I thought I would register for one of John’s courses,” Margaret hesitated as she saw John frown, “but Uncle Adam said I should take other classes first.” Margaret thought she saw a look of relief on his face, and was disappointed at the thought that John wouldn’t want her as a student.

Good grief, no! That’s all I need, Margaret in one of my classes. I’d have to wait another whole semester to ask her out. “Margaret, I think Adam is right. You’ve not even finished the first semester econ course, and my class really requires more than just basic economics. Maybe if I’m still teaching next year, you might take the class.” John smiled at her, then stood. “Time for me to head home. Aunt Belle, Mother, thank you for a lovely dinner, and please don’t talk about me after I leave.” They both laughed and told him not to count on it.

John went to the hall closet to get his coat. He had wanted to ask Margaret out to dinner Friday night, but hadn’t had a single minute alone with her the whole evening. I’ll just have to ask her over the phone. And then as he turned around to put on his coat, he saw her, alone in the living room. He walked in and just stood there, looking at her. Margaret wouldn’t look at him, she was still acutely embarrassed at Fran’s revelation of her kiss with Guy, and didn’t know what to say to him.

John took her hand in his and said softly, “Margaret, I’d like to have dinner with you on Friday night. Are you free, or … ,” and after a long pause, waiting in vain for Margaret to look up at him, “are you seeing Guy?” Margaret looked up quickly, her mouth open, ready to protest, and she saw that John was smiling.

“I would like that, John,” she said quietly, looking down again. John lifted her hand and kissed it softly, and leaned down and whispered in her ear that he would call her. He left Margaret standing there, with a tingling feeling all over. A date!


	23. A First Date

Margaret took a deep breath. She had to tell Uncle Adam or Fred about her date. She never left the house without one of them knowing where she was going and with whom. If she just went out without telling them, well, everyone would be looking for her. She couldn’t do that. “Uncle Adam, I am going out on Friday night. I have a date!” Adam looked up from the breakfast table to see a big smile on Margaret’s face, and he smiled back. 

“Well, good for you Margaret. Who is the lucky man? Guy?”

Margaret’s smile faded just a bit, and then she said, very quietly, “No, Uncle Adam. John asked me out to dinner.” She looked at him questioningly, “Fred told you Guy kissed me New Year’s Eve?” Uncle Adam nodded yes, and waited. “Well, Guy and I are friends, but not more. We’ve talked about it, and he knows how I feel.” She sighed. “John … well, I like him, I’ve liked him for a while. I know he’s older, Fred said …. You think it’s okay, don’t you?”

“Margaret, John’s a fine young man, I like him.” He hesitated. “We worry about you, Margaret, you know that. The way you were brought up, sometimes it seems as if even people your own age are older than you, they’ve experienced so much more, so, well, John’s several years older than you. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, just … well, I guess I should be saying this to John, shouldn’t I?”

“Oh, Uncle Adam, you’re not going to tell him not to take me out, are you?” Margaret looked so unhappy at that prospect, Adam spoke quickly to reassure her.

“No, no, nothing like that, Margaret. I was just thinking out loud, I’m not even going to talk to John. You’re both old enough to sort this out yourselves. You do know you can come to me with any questions you have, don’t you?” He smiled as Margaret nodded yes. “Does Fred know about your date?”

She sighed. “No. I haven’t told him yet. I hope he won’t be too disappointed that it’s not with Guy.”

***

John called Margaret late that day to talk about what she wanted to do Friday night. “Margaret, is there any restaurant in particular you’d like to go to?”

“No, John, whatever you want. I really don’t know many places, so let’s go wherever you would like.” And then there was a long pause. “Um, John, … er … I was wondering, … ” and she didn’t say anything else.

John’s heart sank. She’s changed her mind. She doesn’t want to go out with me. Has she seen Guy today, did he ask her not to? “Margaret, if you’ve changed your mind, if you don’t want to go out with me, just say so. It’s okay, really, I won’t … mind. I like you, very much, but … . Well, if you prefer Guy to me, you just have to say.” He hesitated briefly. Could she possibly think … ? “Margaret, you don’t have to be nice to me, go out with me, just because I’m your roommate’s brother. I hope you didn’t say yes to dinner with me because of Fran.” 

“Oh, John, no! Please don’t say we can’t go. I didn’t change my mind, I … I’m really looking forward to my very first date, especially … ” Margaret blushed, even though John wasn’t there and couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “It’s just, I wanted to ask … Fran’s my best friend and, well, I wouldn’t tell her if you didn’t want me to, but … ”

John laughed in relief. “Of course, tell Fran whatever you like. She’s your friend, I don’t want to get in the way of that. Let’s just hope she doesn’t tell our mother, or I won’t get away from the grilling in time to pick you up Friday night. All right, as you have no preference, I think we’ll go to a restaurant near where I live. I’ll be busy at work this week, lots of people thinking about new investments at this time of year, so why don’t I call you Thursday night?”

***

“Fran,” Margaret took a deep breath, “I have a date, Friday night, for dinner.” Margaret smiled as she saw Fran whirl around and almost jump for joy for her. Fran had come over for lunch and now they were getting ready to go shopping downtown. And then Margaret’s smile faded.

“Oh, Margaret, I knew you would finally give in and actually go out alone with Guy. Where are you going, and more importantly, what have you got to wear that will knock him off his feet?” Fran headed straight to Margaret’s closet and started pushing hangers, saying “no”, “no”, “no”, “um, maybe,” when she came to the green sweater Margaret wore to the party. “Margaret, good thing we’re going shopping this afternoon. You don’t have much in the way of “look at me” clothes, do you?”

Fran turned from the closet to see why Margaret wasn’t saying anything and saw Margaret bite her lip. Fran knew something was wrong. Margaret usually only did that when she was nervous or had to say something she thought someone wouldn’t like. “What’s the matter? Come on, tell me. I can’t believe you’re not excited.”

“It’s not Guy,” Margaret said quietly. “John asked me out.”

“John! John who?” Fran stared at Margaret for a moment, and then Margaret saw the dawning as Fran’s mouth opened in astonishment. “You don’t mean it! Margaret, my brother?! I thought you had a crush on him. Oh, wow, wait till Mother hears this -- no, no, don’t worry, believe me, she won’t hear it from me. Well, well, well. That changes what kind of clothes we’re shopping for, doesn’t it? You want to appeal to an older man, don’t you?” She grinned and raised her eyebrows, and they both laughed.

***

John called Margaret’s mobile Thursday evening, very late. “Margaret, sorry I’m calling so late. Can you talk now, or are you too tired?”

Margaret was already in bed, and as she heard John’s voice on the phone, she grinned in the dark, shivering with excitement under the covers. “No, John, I’m not too tired. I’m glad you called.”

John smiled at hearing the sleepiness in Margaret’s voice. She’s in bed. And then he covered the microphone on his cell phone, so Margaret wouldn’t hear his quiet laugh at the thought of the flannel nightgown from throat to ankles that Fran told him about. I’ll bet she looks adorable in that, but it’s definitely not sexy night wear. “I’ve been looking forward all week to seeing you tomorrow. Tell me what you’re going to wear. Is that green sweater something I can look forward to?” 

Margaret blushed in the dark and laughed quietly. “Fran told me you liked that sweater. But we went shopping Wednesday for something else, Fran said … ” Margaret stopped. Fran had said a ‘mature’ man, as she now referred to her brother, would like to see a little more of his date, so Margaret shouldn’t be covered completely from head to toe, a little skin was what a man liked. I’m not going to tell him that! Margaret had put a damper on that idea pretty quickly, but she had found a cashmere sweater that was so soft, it was irresistible. It draped over her figure in a way that startled Margaret when she looked in the mirror in the dressing room, but … she decided she liked what she saw. It had a rounded neckline that dipped just below the hollow of her throat, and that was the extent of the ‘skin’ she intended to bare. Fran told her that it was perfect, the color matched the highlights in her auburn hair. Again, Fran could not convince Margaret to wear a skirt, and they settled for the black pants she had worn to the party. “I think you’ll like what I wear.”

John grinned to himself. “I’m sure I will. I’ll see you tomorrow night at 7:00, Margaret. Good night.”

***

It was snowing lightly when John rang the bell at Adam’s house. Adam greeted him, saying Margaret would be down shortly. “How are the roads, John? Is it slick out there?”

“No, it’s just been snowing for a few minutes, although it is sticking. We aren’t going out of town, Adam. We’re eating at Crecco’s, it’s about three blocks from my apartment, so I’m going to leave the car in the garage and we’ll walk. Won’t have to clear a snow covered car when we get back. I’ll be careful.” They both turned as they heard Margaret coming down the stairs. John grinned, wow.

“Margaret, you look nice.” John thought of telling her how beautiful she looked, but he knew from Fran that Margaret was very self conscious about people noticing her figure, so he kept his thoughts to himself. If I tell her what I think of that sweater, she might keep her coat on all night. “I hope you have a warm coat, it’s cold and snowing, and we will be walking some distance to the restaurant, if you don’t mind.” He helped her on with her coat, said good night to Adam and they walked out to the car, where John helped buckle her into her seat, both of them very aware of their closeness as his arms moved around her.

They didn’t talk on the way to town, John concentrating on his driving on the slippery roads, Margaret too excited at being on her first date to string together coherent sentences yet. John pulled into an underground parking garage and turned the engine off. “Here we are, Margaret. We’ll walk to the restaurant from here, okay? Why are you looking at me like that? What’s the matter?”

“Why did you park here, John? Isn’t this garage for tenants of this building?” Margaret looked confused.

“Well, yes, but I live here. My apartment is on the fourth floor. Why are you surprised, you knew I didn’t live with my mother, didn’t you?” John had gotten out of the car and was holding his hand out to Margaret, to help her from the car. “Why the smile? Come on, tell me, what are you grinning about?”

Margaret blushed. “I didn’t know you lived here. … I have an apartment in this building too.” She saw the look of astonishment on John’s face. “I bought an apartment on the fifth floor in early November, an investment. I’ve never stayed here, I’ve only been in the apartment three times.” John shook his head at the coincidence. So, we live, well, have apartments in the same building. That could be interesting, he thought, grinning.

They left the garage and walked to the restaurant. The snow was falling quite steadily now, and John put his arm around Margaret’s waist, holding her close to him to insure that she didn’t slip or fall. He was watching where they were walking, not looking at her face, but he just knew she was smiling as broadly as he was.

***

John reached his hand across the table to take Margaret’s small hand lightly in his. He took a deep breath, I’ve been thinking about this the entire week, might as well ask now. “So, Margaret, I’m curious about New Year’s Eve. Fran said you had your first kiss, sitting on Guy’s lap?” He saw the blush, and she started to pull her hand away, but John held onto it, intertwining their fingers. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it lightly. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Margaret smiled, but didn’t look directly at him. “Guy and I are just friends, good friends, but friends. The kiss … kisses actually …” she paused and looked up at him. He was still smiling, but shaking his head. “ … New Year’s Eve weren’t meant to be more. I was … When Fran told everyone about it, I thought you might be angry.” She hesitated and then said, “The night before, when you took me home, I wanted … ”

“Good evening, have you decided on what you’re having tonight?” John’s irritation at the waiter’s ill timed interruption flashed briefly across his face and then he just shook his head and sighed.

“Margaret, have you decided what you want?” He smiled as she gave her order, it was what he had planned to have, the mussels appetizer, but he wanted the fra diavolo instead of marinara. She ordered lasagna and John ordered lobster ravioli. The waiter’s suggestion of garlic bread was nixed by John with a smile. Not tonight.

”What were you going to say, Margaret, about what you wanted that night?” John didn’t want to lose track of that thought. Then he rolled his eyes, the waiter was back, having forgotten to ask about drinks. Just as the waiter left, he saw someone else approaching their table. John rose quickly.

“Ann, how are you this evening?” He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek, and then turned to Margaret. “Ann, you remember Margaret Hale, don’t you? Margaret, this is Ann Latimer, a friend from university. I think you met at one of Fred’s soccer games.” As Margaret and Ann said hello to each other, John looked back in the direction of the table Ann had come from. “Is that the charming Italian?” he asked quietly, nodding in that direction and smiling at Ann.

“Yes, but I’m not introducing you tonight. I just wanted to say hello, and,” Ann turned away from Margaret and whispered to John, “she’s lovely, John. This your first date? Good luck.” Ann turned back to Margaret and said she was happy to meet her again, and went back to her table.

“Okay, enough with the interruptions. Maybe we should have had dinner in my apartment, then I could have had you all to myself. Tell me about growing up on a farm, Margaret.” John knew some of Margaret’s background from Fran, but he had never heard her talk about it herself. Margaret talked about her childhood, her parents, home schooling, those few months at the park with Fred, but as she talked, she realized that everything from her first eighteen years seemed so long ago now, another lifetime. She could never go back to that life, would never want to.

“Don’t, don’t look at me like that, John. I see that same look from Uncle Adam and Fred, and Fran and Edith. I had a happy childhood, my parents loved me, it was just … different.” Margaret couldn’t talk about growing up anymore, it was too hard for other people to understand. “It must have been wonderful to grow up with a sister.”

“Yes, even though that sister was Fran,” he grinned. Margaret protested, pretending to slap his hand, and they both smiled as John took her hand in his again. John talked about his childhood, how he had missed his father, how he felt the responsibility of being the ‘man’ of the house at the age of nine. Margaret listened quietly, admiring him for being able to say without hesitation how much he loved his sister and mother.

John looked at his watch. “Margaret, we’ve been here three hours. Unless you want something else, we’d better get going. It’s been snowing the entire time we’ve been here, and I want to get you home safely. Don’t want a posse of escorts hunting me down.” Margaret laughed and stood. John helped her with her coat, and she watched his face as he stood in front of her and slowly did up her coat buttons. When he finished, he looked into her eyes and smiled and she felt her heart beat so much faster, she almost felt lightheaded.

In the ten minutes it took them to walk the three blocks back to the garage, they saw evidence of a motor vehicle accident and two more cars skidding in the road. “Margaret, it doesn’t look safe to be going back out.” John took out his mobile and called Adam. “Adam, John. Look, we’ve just walked back from the restaurant and it looks very grim out here. I don’t think it’s safe to drive. Margaret told me about her apartment here and I think she should stay here tonight and I can drive her home once the plows have cleared things tomorrow, okay?”

John talked to Adam a while longer, then turned to Margaret. “Adam agrees, you should stay here tonight. But he said he wasn’t sure you were familiar with your security system, so I’ll check it out with you, okay? Now, let’s get you into someplace warmer than a parking garage.” John took Margaret’s arm and they walked to the elevator. They rode to the fifth floor in silence, both thinking about them being in Margaret’s apartment together.

“Margaret, your key? Let me do it for you.” John opened the door and Margaret walked to the security panel and put in her security code. She took off her coat and turned toward the living room as John stood behind her, wondering if she wanted him to leave. Margaret turned back to him, smiling.

“Well, I remembered that part, but I’ve never turned it on while I was inside. Would you show me that?” And then she frowned. “It’s cold in here, isn’t it? I must have been saving some money, keeping the heat down with no one ever here, but where is that thermostat?” Margaret put her hands on her arms and rubbed as she walked into the living room, looking for the thermostat. John came up behind her and put his arm around her. 

“My thermostat is in the hallway leading to the bedroom, this way. It will warm up fast in here. But if you’ve never stayed here, do you have food, drinks, clothes, shampoo?” John saw a look of surprise on Margaret’s face. “Hadn’t thought of that, had you? Well, let’s look to see what you have and what you need for tonight and tomorrow morning, then we can raid my supplies.”

John and Margaret looked in the kitchen cupboards, nothing, refrigerator, nothing. Then the bathroom, hand soap, yes, towels, yes, no shampoo, no toothpaste. Off to the bedroom to check for clothes. Not a thing. By the time they finished opening cupboards, closets and drawers, they were both laughing.

“Come on, Margaret, let’s go to my apartment and get what you need.” John took Margaret’s hand and they walked downstairs to his apartment. Margaret looked around. This was so different from her apartment. She had purchased hers furnished, the sellers were moving overseas and weren’t moving any furniture. She hadn’t had the time to do anything with it yet. But John’s apartment looked so inviting, warm - a home.

“First, let’s get you something to sleep in, Margaret. I’ve got two pairs of pajamas. Grey or red? Or you could have a t shirt to sleep in? No, I didn’t think so,” he smiled as she picked the red pajamas. “Now, here’s a new toothbrush, with toothpaste - I’d better get something to put all this in. Okay, sleeping, teeth, oh, shower - here’s shampoo, sorry, generic, no flowery type.” John turned to look at Margaret, trailing him from room to room. She hadn’t said a word as he picked things off shelves. 

She was smiling up at him, her back to the wall in the hallway. He put down the box, put one hand on each side of her on the wall and leaned in and brushed her lips with his. “Margaret,” he whispered, and kissed her again, lingering longer this time and feeling the slightest pressure from her lips this time. She sighed and opened her eyes. John could feel his body reacting to her closeness, to the flush he saw in her face, to her breath on his cheek. Don’t rush things. Take her back to her apartment, now. 

“Margaret, be sure to arm your security system when you close the door. And call me on my mobile if you need anything. I hope you enjoyed this evening as much as I did. I’ll see you in the morning, for breakfast,” he grinned, and then he tilted her chin up and kissed her lightly. “Good night, Margaret. Sleep well.”

Margaret closed the door behind him and leaned back against the door, sighing. Perfect.


	24. The Morning After

Margaret’s eyes flew open, again. What was that? She had been trying to lie absolutely still, just listening. She had been hearing noises since she had first lain down, and had not slept at all. I know I heard something. Is it in the apartment? Is there someone here? I set the alarm, no one could get in, could they? Maybe I didn’t do it right. There it was again, distant but definite, it sounded like a door. Her heart started to pound again. She couldn’t stand it any longer. She picked up her phone.

Rrring. Rrring. Noooo. John had tossed and turned for what seemed hours after he got back to his apartment, but he must have finally fallen asleep, because now he was being awakened by ringing. His mobile? John groaned and reached for the lamp, and saw it was 2:00am. Who could be calling at this hour? John picked up his phone - Margaret!

“Margaret, are you all right?” John was already standing up, reaching for his clothes.

“John, I’m so sorry,” he could hear her voice quavering, “I’m hearing noises and I don’t know if it’s in my apartment or … ”

“I’ll be up in less than a minute. Stay on the phone, but I’m putting my phone down to pull on my clothes.” John put his phone down, pulled on shorts, jerked on his jeans, pulled a sweater over his head and picked the phone up again. “Margaret, are you there? Okay, I’m on my way. Hang on.” John grabbed his keys and ran out of his apartment, taking the stairs two at a time.

Margaret opened the door to her apartment before he could knock, and she ran right into his arms. “Margaret, it’s okay, I’m here.” John was wide awake now, and very aware of Margaret, in his arms, in his pajamas. “Let’s go inside, and I’ll look around. Oh, your security code, before the alarm company calls Adam.” John took a deep breath, shaking his head, she’s safe, calm down, she’s safe. “Now, where did you hear noises?”

John started to walk towards the living room, and felt Margaret’s hand clutching the back of his sweater. “Margaret, wait here by the door while I check the apartment.” She didn’t say a word, just looked at him with wide eyes and vehemently shook her head no. So together they checked every room, every closet, behind every door, under the bed, behind the sofa, behind the shower curtain - no one.

“I’m sorry, John. I kept hearing noises, and I knew some of them were just from the building, but I really thought I heard the door.” She looked so embarrassed that John gave her a quick hug.

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad you called if you were worried. Now we know for sure no one is here.” And as they stood there, just staring into each other’s eyes, not saying anything, they heard a noise. Both heads snapped around towards the entryway. John walked over and looked at Margaret’s security panel, and then he smiled. “Look, Margaret, do you see this light? It means you’ve got the monitor on for the downstairs door, for when you are screening someone who wants to come up. But you left it on, and each time the door opened tonight, the sound came up here.” John turned the monitor off.

“You should be able to sleep just fine now, Margaret. I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?” He looked at her, she was shaking her head no, and holding onto his sweater again.

“Please, John, don’t leave. Or can I come to your apartment? I haven’t been able to sleep at all, I’ve heard all kinds of noises. Please, I can’t stay here alone.”

“Margaret, that’s not really a good idea. First date and I wind up staying overnight with you? Fred and Adam would be pretty upset, don’t you think?” As in, ready to kill me? Not that it’s not an incredibly tempting offer. She looks oh so sweet in those pajamas. … Better stop thinking about that.

***

John settled on the sofa, lying on his side so his feet wouldn’t hang over the end, pulling the blanket around his shoulders. Margaret had refused to let him leave, threatening to get dressed and walk home right then if she had to stay alone another minute in this strange apartment. She had given him the fiercest hug when he’d finally given in, and he had realized then how spooked she was. He punched the pillow a couple of times and shifted his legs a bit. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Quite the novel ending to a first date, sleeping on her sofa. He listened to the distant, very faint sound of heavy equipment moving snow, and then the quiet hum of the heating system lulled him to sleep.

John became aware of a change in the sounds around him, and he gradually awoke. It took a moment, then he realized where he was and why his legs felt a bit cramped. It was still completely dark out, but something was different. John lifted his head from the pillow, and he heard ragged breathing, very close by. He looked over the edge of the sofa and could just make out something there. He shook his head in disbelief. “Margaret, what are you doing on the floor?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you, John. Please go back to sleep.” Margaret’s voice was muffled, he didn’t know why.

“Margaret, this is your apartment, you have a bed, what are you doing on the floor? Come on, sit up, tell me what’s going on.” John swung his legs over the side of the sofa and lowered himself to the floor to sit next to her. This night is getting stranger by the hour. He put his arm around her and that’s when he realized she had been crying. “Margaret?” John reached up to turn on the lamp and Margaret stopped him.

“Don’t. I feel so stupid. I’m not a baby, really, I’m not, and you’re going to think that way about me again.” John started to protest and Margaret cut him off before he could speak. “No, don’t deny it, you’ve always seen me as a little girl, and this is just making it worse. I can’t sleep in there, I didn’t realize at first, but … ” and then she just shook her head, taking deep breaths, trying to stop crying.

“Margaret, you’re right, I used to think of you that way - used to, past tense. I have a baby sister exactly your age, and I’ve always been very protective of her, so you’re going to have to cut me some slack for thinking about you that way when we first met.” He smiled in the dark. “I don’t ask little girls out on dates, Margaret. The person …. the woman who is in my arms right now, believe me, I’m not thinking of her as a little girl. But something has really upset you. What is it?”

It took a while. John just sat quietly, waiting. He had never asked Margaret about what happened to her when she had been abducted, and she had never volunteered anything. He didn’t realize at first that was why she had been crying. And then she started to describe the tiny, soundproof room they had locked her in, the furniture in the room, the bed and table, the lamp she kept on all night. She said she hadn’t thought about that little room for a long time, until tonight. She hesitated, and then she described the wallpaper in the tiny room, which she had stared at for hours, and John groaned as her whispered words painted a picture strikingly similar to the wall covering in her apartment bedroom. He sighed and kissed the top of her head.

“Let’s go downstairs, Margaret.”

***

“Margaret, how about breakfast? Soon, please, I’m starving. Are you going to take a shower first, or … ?” He saw the look, she had just realized her clothes were still upstairs. He smiled at her. “It’s okay, let’s get your clothes, you’ll take the first shower while I start to fix breakfast. You’re going to have to change that apartment. We’ll talk to Adam about it today, okay, get some workers in? Come on, let’s go.”

“Margaret, if you want, I can give you a long sleeved polo to wear instead of the cashmere sweater, a little more practical for the day. No pants to fit you though,“ he grinned. He gave Margaret a black polo shirt and a towel, and she went into his bathroom and closed the door, looking around. She saw his shaving kit and remembered feeling his whiskers that night so long ago at the pool. He was clean shaven last night, but the beginnings of stubble had appeared this morning. She smiled, thinking he looked a little … dangerous with the stubble. She grinned, where did that thought come from? Fifteen minutes later, as John walked past the bathroom door, returning the bedding he had used on the sofa to the linen closet, he heard her give a little squeal. 

“Margaret, are you all right?” John knocked tentatively on the door, and then he heard her laugh.

“I’m fine, just a little startled putting on my … um, … things, still a little damp from washing them last night.” John grinned and walked back to the kitchen, imagining ‘things.’

Margaret walked into the kitchen and John quickly glanced at her. Looks good in my shirt, certainly fills it out a different way. “Margaret, juice, eggs, pancakes, toast, sausage … ?” He was teasing, he had no idea what she ate for breakfast.

“Yes, John, one of each, please.” She laughed. A breakfast date! Fran would want every detail.

They ate quietly, both lost in thought, both thinking about the other and how their date had now extended to a second day. “John?” He looked up questioningly. “It’s getting late.” Oh, no, she wants to go home, just when I was enjoying this quiet time together. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but I was wondering what you had planned for this morning.”

“Well, Margaret, if you want me to drive you home now, that would be fine. I hadn’t really had anything specific planned for today. Classes don’t start for two weeks, I saw my mother and Fran two days ago.” God, she looks gorgeous. Maybe I should suggest another date, soon, like tonight. Maybe she wouldn’t have to go home at all. John sighed. It feels so right, but she’s so young, so inexperienced. It’s too soon to feel so sure. Better take it slowly.

“Actually, I wasn’t thinking of going home yet, unless you want me to, if you want to do something else, or be by yourself.” She saw him grin as he shook his head and told her being with her for now was exactly what he wanted. “I think the stores should be open in another half hour, and there are so many things I need for the apartment. How would you feel about going shopping with me? Not a guy thing I know, but … ”

Margaret called home after breakfast and told Uncle Adam that she was going to go shopping before she came home. The apartment was only a few blocks from the stores, and she didn’t want to be caught so unprepared if she stayed there again. Margaret had decided she wasn’t going to stock the apartment with everything it needed, but she was going to get a good start today. 

***

John grinned. This part of his day was totally unexpected, but he was definitely looking forward to it. He sat expectantly outside the dressing room, waiting for Margaret to reappear. They had already gotten toiletries, cleaning supplies, some basic cookware and kitchenware, and taken all of that back to the apartment already. They were going to go to the supermarket last, but now, Margaret was in there trying on clothes. 

She had surprised him by saying she wanted to get some clothes to keep at the apartment too, not a lot, she said. She wouldn’t bore him silly, it wouldn’t take too long, if he didn’t mind shopping with her, that is. Mind, he’d said with a grin, mind watching you model clothes for me, and Margaret had laughed, remembering that day Fran had teased him with that exact prospect and Margaret had been so embarrassed. Now it was actually going to happen.

Margaret had grabbed a couple of pairs of pants, and two sweaters; she looked over at John and with just a moment’s hesitation, picked up a skinny little tee shirt that Fran had pointed out to her earlier in the week. John had found a wrap style top in a soft blue that looked very enticing on a mannikin, and asked her to try it on. She raised her eyebrows at the mannikin, looking at the deep v neckline, but she took it from him and went into the dressing room.

“I think the pants and sweaters fit just fine,” she said through the door. “I’ll see about that other top now.”

“Whoa, time out!” John stood up. “You ask me to clothes shop with you and I don’t even get a glimpse at how the clothes look? I don’t think so. Do I have to come in there and drag you out?” John teased. He heard the sigh, then saw the door handle start to turn. Margaret peeked her head out and then stepped out. 

“These fit fine, John,” she said, standing self consciously in front of him in a pair of pants about two sizes bigger than necessary, and a sweater that showed nothing of her shape. She smiled as he stood there shaking his head, asking if these were workout clothes and so had to be extra roomy for movement. He went back to the racks and picked out the same style pants and sweater in a smaller size and she was sent back into the dressing room with strict instructions that he needed to see how they fit. After a few minutes, another sigh, another turn of the door handle.

“Margaret, these actually fit you, now we know you’re female. Ouch, no hitting your shopping partner, madam. Now, how about that wrap thing I picked out? Please? I’d like to see it with that second pair of pants.” John raised his eyebrows and smiled, and she went back into the little room.

There was a much longer wait this time, and John was beginning to think she wouldn’t show him the wrap. Then she stepped out and John laughed. She had the top on, but had put the skinny tee under it. Now he could definitely see a very feminine figure, emphasizing her curves and her small waist. But the effect of the v neck wasn’t quite the same with a cotton tee under it covering her up to her throat. She told him she didn’t think she would get it, she would be too self conscious wearing it. John just smiled, someday I am going to see more of this woman. 

“What else? Have I got every basic thing I need?” Margaret was looking at the pile of clothes she had in front of her.

John turned to her and smiled, raising his eyebrows. “How about ‘things’? Remember, after your shower?” 

Margaret bit her lip and shook her head. “That’s another store, John, you probably wouldn’t want to go in there with me.”

“Oh, how wrong can a woman be,” he said, shaking his head, chuckling as she blushed again.

In the end, John waited outside the store, sitting on a bench in the mall atrium. Margaret had turned pink at the thought of picking such things out with John watching her, and so he told her he would wait for her. She came out and sat down next to him, smiling to herself. She just shook her head no when he asked if she were going to show him what she bought, but she did tell him with a smile that the ‘things’ were black.

***

“Margaret, I guess this date is finally over,” John said quietly. They were standing at Adam’s door once again, eighteen hours after John had picked her up the night before. “You’re going to tell Adam you spent the night in my apartment, and why, right? Good. And you’re sure you don’t want me to come in with you to explain?” John leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Thank you, Margaret, for the most interesting first date I’ve ever had. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” 

John kissed her on the cheek, but before he pulled away, Margaret whispered in his ear, “I had a wonderful time, John. Thank you.” She turned her head, looked in those beautiful blue eyes and kissed him softly. Then she disappeared inside.


	25. A New Arrival

John walked into the administration building. He was looking forward to the new semester. He had enjoyed teaching, and while some students overestimated their computer skills and found themselves over their heads in one of the classes, they were definitely in the minority. Classes had been stimulating, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to give up teaching after the next semester. He had plenty of time to make his mind up, but he’d already been told that the administration wanted to offer his courses in the Fall again.

He had been offered the renewal contract already, but hadn’t signed it. He’d initially taken the position solely because of Fran, but he thought she was well grounded at Mills now and didn’t actually need his presence as big brother any more. And Hannah had been amazingly calm recently, considering both her son and daughter were out of sight and sound for days at a time. He put that change down to Aunt Belle. He realized after recent visits they had come to some kind of understanding in the past couple of months; he didn’t understand what had happened between them, but was grateful for it. They were now united.

There was just a week left before break was over, and John had been asked to attend an informal cocktail hour for three new additions to the faculty. John could think of other things he’d prefer to be doing this evening, but Adam had specifically asked him to come, and he found it hard to refuse Adam anything. Unfortunately, John thought, the party was in the administration building, not at Adam’s house, so no chance of seeing Margaret. 

Margaret. The thought of her brought a smile to his face and a wish that he could see her rather than spend tonight with strangers. They hadn’t had a second date yet, that was tomorrow night. He smiled even more broadly when he recalled their first date, which had lasted, off and on, about eighteen hours. They were going to a film tomorrow night, then she was going to show him the changes started in her apartment. No forecast of snow, so no chance of spending the night with her again - too bad.

The renovations had started on her apartment right after her night there. Adam had contacted a contractor right away, and the wallcovering in the bedroom was the first thing to go. They also decided to redo the bathroom and to modernize the kitchen as well. And Adam had contacted an interior designer friend to work with Margaret about starting fresh with the apartment furnishings. It wouldn’t be long before it would be the way she wanted it, not a reminder of a terrible time. 

And Margaret being at Mills was quite the incentive for John to consider that renewal contract more seriously than before. John shook those thoughts from his head and walked into the conference room where other faculty were already getting acquainted with the new staff members.

***

”John, I want you to meet one of the new professors. He’ll be with us the new semester, in the psychology department. Rather well known in his field,” and then Adam hesitated. He couldn’t say what he was thinking, or more accurately, wondering about this new addition to the faculty. The hiring hadn’t been his decision, of course, but he wondered about a man who was taking a new position at his age and with his experience in teaching. Something must have caused him to leave his last two positions. Well, benefit of the doubt, maybe family issues, maybe just a poor fit at other universities.

“John Thornton, Henry Lennox. John, Henry was last at UCSD and before that, Emory. Excuse me, please, I need to talk to the dean.” Adam walked off, leaving John looking at this new addition to the faculty. Henry Lennox was as tall as John, about twenty years older, just starting to thicken in the middle. He had dark hair turning grey at the temples, light green eyes, a square jaw, full lips and a classic Roman nose. He was handsome in a smooth way.

“What do you teach here, um, John is it?” John’s eyes narrowed just slightly at the hint that his name was almost forgotten in less than fifteen seconds, and he noticed that Henry was scanning the crowd rather than looking at him as they spoke. Well, he’s new here, trying to get his bearings, probably introduced to twenty people in ten minutes. Give him a break.

“I teach economics, just a couple of courses each semester. I haven’t decided yet how much longer I want to do it, haven’t signed the contract for next year yet.” He saw Lennox’s eyebrows raise at that statement, both of them knowing that contracts weren’t usually offered so early in the year to adjuncts. “I wanted to be nearby when my sister started university. I enjoy teaching, just haven’t decided if it’s an actual career choice for me. So, how long have you been teaching, Henry? Why Mills?”

Henry looked at him sharply, wondering if John had heard anything, but he didn’t see anything in John’s face that hinted at more than simple curiosity. “I’ve been teaching for almost twenty five years. Actually, I’ve never worked outside the academic setting, although I always maintain a private practice.” He saw John look questioningly at that statement. “Well, I need more stimulation and money than I can get from teaching kids basic psychology. Surely you don’t live on your teaching salary, if you teach just two courses?”

“Well, no, I have an interest in a local business, and I’ve written several computer programs which I licence.” John was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable, and he wasn’t sure why. Henry’s eyes had barely made contact with him during their conversation, and John noticed that he seemed to linger on the women in the room, his look rather appraising. “Are you married, Henry?”

Henry nodded in the affirmative. “Yes. But my wife wasn’t able to get away for this introductory get together. She’ll be here when classes start, but she hasn’t found a job here yet. Are you married, John, or do you play the field with the undergrads?” He said the last with a wink, and John had all he could do to keep a look of surprise off his face. Is that his idea of a joke?

“No, Henry, I’m not married. Oh, I see someone I need to have a word with, please excuse me, nice to have met you.” John nodded to Henry and walked out of the room quickly. He wasn’t sure exactly why, they’d just met and he didn’t know anything about him, but John felt a distinct dislike for Henry Lennox.

***

Henry would have preferred to stay in California for another year or two, simply because it didn’t look good moving from one university to another so often, but that wasn’t possible. UCSD had given him a glowing recommendation, but that was pretty standard; universities couldn’t afford lawsuits each time a teacher was asked to leave for reasons they didn’t want broadcast to the rest of the academic community. The UCSD administration knew that Emory had been threatened with a lawsuit during negotiations when Henry was encouraged to leave that university, another reason to take no chances with the recommendation. UCSD’s misfortune was that they hadn’t learned that detail until after they’d hired Lennox three years earlier. They were just thankful he had agreed to go without a fuss. They couldn’t worry about Mills, they needed to get him off their hands.

Henry had started his academic career as soon as he’d finished his doctorate in clinical psychology at Syracuse University. He had been a teaching assistant and an instructor there, then joined the faculty as a clinical psychologist, continuing with several sexual health and substance abuse clinical studies which were started with his advisor during his doctoral course. 

That was where Henry met his first wife, and also how he lost his position at Syracuse. Rebecca was an undergraduate student participating in a clinical study supervised by Henry. She and Henry became much friendlier than the administration thought appropriate between clinician and subject. Henry was asked to leave and his argument that he married the woman in question carried no weight with colleagues who saw his behavior as unethical. Henry had been under consideration for tenure, having been there five years. Now, without the protection tenure would have given him, and having made more enemies than friends among the other faculty with his arrogance, he had no chance of keeping his position. 

Henry secured a position at Emory University and obtained tenure after eight years, just one year before his wife divorced him, citing irreconcilable differences. Rebecca was unable to reconcile herself to his continued interest in other women. He argued, only half-heartedly, that his interest was strictly professional, that all of the young women he spent so much time with were involved in his clinical studies. Having been involved with him that way herself before their marriage, Rebecca knew better.

Henry left Emory three years later. There had been rumors of an affair with an undergraduate student in one of his clinical trials, but nothing was proven. The student left the university quietly, without bringing any charges of misconduct against Henry. With tenure, his position was secure enough; the removal process was very costly and could extend for well over two years, with no guarantee of success; few university administrations had the stomach for such a fight, especially when there were only rumors. 

But Henry’s new wife had insisted they leave Emory. His colleagues had been startled earlier that year to find him suddenly remarried, to a woman many years his junior whom he met while on sabbatical. She’d heard the rumors as soon as she had taken up residence at Emory. She wanted a clean start for their marriage in a place where there would be no gossip about her husband. When UCSD offered a tenured faculty position, Henry took it. His wife was happy with the move, as she was able to finish her undergraduate degree at such a good university. But now he was moving again, and for similar reasons.

Well, Henry didn’t really care what they thought at UCSD. He hadn’t been particularly happy in California, he preferred the east coast, the women were more interested in academics, more interested in helping with his studies, and frankly, more interested in him. His wife was learning to live with that. She had agreed to come with him to Mills, although there had been fierce arguments and lots of tears over the latest rumors. I like women, young women, I’ve never made a secret of that. I’ve never been satisfied being friends with just one woman, she’d better get used to it. And anyway, there is always someone else if I find myself alone again.

***

John wasn’t saying a word, he just looked straight ahead as he drove. They had left the film premiere after just fifteen minutes, and Margaret hadn’t looked at him since they had walked out. It had been a student film shown at a fraternity house, a student that Margaret had befriended. She didn’t know anything about his project, but wanted to support him in his first showing. Well, it hadn’t actually been pornographic, but it was certainly explicit in its depiction of a ‘romance’ between two circus novelty acts. His sides ached from holding in laughter. Better not say anything. Definitely the first such she’s seen.

They drove to a local Thai restaurant for something to eat before looking at Margaret’s construction project at the apartment. Once they were sat down, Margaret buried her head in the menu. John just waited, she’d have to look at him sometime. Margaret took a deep breath and looked up at him.

“I’m so sorry, John. I didn’t realize what kind of movie Antonio was making. I think he tried to warn me, he mentioned acrobats, but …” and her voice trailed off. And then she looked at him thoughtfully, biting her lower lip, her brow creased. “Do you wish we had stayed? Have you … seen films like that before?” And she searched his face, wondering what he was thinking.

John smiled. “Well, yes and no, Margaret. Yes, I’ve seen adult films before, but no, I’ve never seen one quite like that one. Those acrobats were really … flexible, weren’t they?” He grinned and took her hand in his. “I didn’t mind leaving. I can’t have a good time if you’re uncomfortable, and you were, weren’t you? But really, Margaret, it was quite a surprise, second date and you take me to see a sex film.” Margaret turned crimson and snatched her hand away, but he was pleased to see that she laughed. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Margaret.” He saw the smallest smile on her face as she stared at him. She just shook her head no, she wasn’t ready to share those thoughts with him. That movie … I don’t really know, I suddenly felt … . I want to reach out and touch John now, but … Is that really how people get from kissing to sex, all in one night? It happened so fast, John isn’t that way with me at all. Margaret frowned. Maybe, maybe he doesn’t feel that way about me, maybe there won’t be more between us. What if he just wants to be a friend? No, the kisses. He must … 

John saw her frown. Well, she’s thinking about it, but not ready to talk about it. Fair enough. Then he frowned himself. She couldn’t be wondering why we haven’t done that yet, could she? Why I haven’t … done anything?

When they were almost finished with dinner, John remembered that Margaret had been at the registrar’s office in the morning, and had mentioned emails from the professors who’d taught her incomplete courses. She still wasn’t going to be taking a full course load this semester. She was very bright, it was a shame that she would fall farther behind. “Have you found out what you have to do to complete those two courses?”

“Yes. I have to write two papers in English, but there won’t be a final exam. And, I have to turn in worksheets in economics and take an exam. But the professor said he couldn’t give me the same exam as the other students, I would get the answers from friends and cheat.”

John looked at her, his mouth dropping open. “He didn’t really say that to you?”

“Yes. Oh, it doesn’t matter, John, I can pass his test. And I registered for three other classes. I’m taking the second semester of the English class, the professor said it’s okay that I haven’t finished the first semester yet. Intro Sociology and Intro Psychology.” 

***

“Wow, I’d love to have a shower like this in my apartment, Margaret.” They were standing in the almost finished bathroom, which just needed a few more courses of tile on the wall. The new shower system had spray heads on two walls at three different heights, temperature control, swiveling body sprays. “Maybe I’ll come up and ‘borrow’ it occasionally, hmm?” he grinned.

He had been surprised but pleased when Margaret had taken his hand as they started walking through the apartment. She had smiled shyly up at him, but hadn’t said anything. They went to the kitchen next. The new appliances had been installed, but the countertops weren’t in yet. “No meals here for a few more days, but Jimmy told me he thinks he’ll be done by the end of the week, so I could stay here after that.”

“Show me what you did with the bedroom?” John tilted his head, looking at her with one of his half smiles, and she felt suddenly warm. They walked into the bedroom and John saw that it was completely finished already. The walls had been painted, not papered. “You really got this done fast. What color is that? It’s very soothing, great for a bedroom.”

“The decorator called it mocha cream.” Margaret watched as John looked around the room. There were new carpeting and curtains, but the room was dominated by the bed. Margaret had gotten a new king size bed, set on a platform, with several soft pillows. John stared at the bed for a moment, and then turned to look at her, standing next to him, holding his hand, staring up at him. Those green eyes … . John, you should be leaving this room right now.

“Kind of big for such a small person, Margaret,” he said softly, ignoring the little voice in his head as his body responded to the nearness of her. He tilted her chin up and kissed her softly, then put his arms around her, drew her closer and kissed her again. Margaret reached up and put her hand on the back of his head, her fingers tentatively moving through his hair, and kissed him back. He heard a soft moan as he pressed his lips just a little harder on hers, her mouth opening slightly. 

“Oh, Margaret,” John moaned as Margaret pressed herself against him. She hugged him tightly and he moaned as he could feel the soft contours of her against his hard body, then she lifted her head to his again. They were standing next to the bed and John put his hands on her waist and sat her on the bed. He sat next to her, they kissed again, and again, and then again, losing themselves in the warmth spreading over both of them.

That little voice - John suddenly realized they were lying on the bed, side by side, legs hanging over the edge, and his hands were on Margaret’s torso. He groaned and sat up, shifting his body away from her. His eyes were searching her face, he was breathing heavily, and then he got up and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Margaret leaning back on the bed, feeling bewildered. What happened, why did he stop? Did I do something wrong?

Margaret found John standing in the living room, staring out the window. He turned as she approached him, an apologetic smile on his face. He took a deep breath, standing with his arms crossed over his chest to stop himself from sweeping her into his arms. He saw her confusion. “I’m sorry, Margaret, I shouldn’t have done that. Not in your bedroom, not on our second date. I … really … like you, and I’m sorry. I’m really not trying to rush you. I want this to be right, for both of us. I think I’d better take you home now.” They drove back to Adam’s house in silence.

“Margaret, I’m trying to take this very slowly with you, but when I look at you, I just want you in my arms and …” John groaned and hugged her to him. He reached behind her and opened the door, then leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Next time, Margaret, next time will be our third date, and I’m telling you now. There will be kissing, lots of kissing … with tongues.” He kissed her forehead and guided her through the door, smiling to himself as he pulled it shut behind her.


	26. A Third Date

Margaret shivered, but she wasn’t cold. She’d been daydreaming again. The third date, tonight. She giggled when she remembered John’s call last night. He told her that he hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed, but they would not be taking in any sex films on their date. They would be going to an art gallery where a friend was having a showing. Then they would spend some time at John’s apartment, relaxing, he said.

She’d just moved back to the dorm, classes would start Monday morning. She had been thinking about what she was going to wear tonight. She and Fran had gone through her whole wardrobe, wondering what to wear on a third date, with a ‘mature’ man, to an art gallery. “Well, Margaret, do we want to look smart or do we want to look sexy?”

Margaret smiled and said firmly, “Both.”

Fran had been curious about Margaret’s date with her brother, and Margaret had told her about the first date, dinner, and meeting Ann, and how sweet her brother had been. Fran’s eyebrows shot up when Margaret told her they spent the night in the same apartment, but after hearing most of the details, Margaret deliberately leaving out the kisses, Fran told her she thought it was a very exciting first date. Fran laughed over Margaret’s description of the student film they’d seen and understood her embarrassment at having seen it with John. 

Margaret told Fran about her shopping trip with John and the blue wrap she hadn’t the nerve to buy, and Fran decided they would go back to that store and see if they could find something nice with a bit more coverage. They had shopped two days ago and found something completely different that both of them liked. Then they looked for Fran. She and Fred had started dating, and Fran wanted to get a ‘look at me’ dress for the party after the bands’ date at another club on Saturday night. They found a beautiful garnet red dress that Fran looked great in, and both of them were looking forward to getting the right looks from the men they were seeing that night.

***

“Mother, I’m busy tonight, I can’t come over. How about tomorrow afternoon?” Hannah had hoped to get John home so that she and Belle could introduce him to a new member in their book club. Alice had a daughter just a year older than John, a young woman who was new to the community and might like to have an attractive and successful young man to go out with. Of course, Hannah didn’t tell any of that to John, time enough when they had him sitting on the living room sofa. She and Belle were worried about him. He needed someone in his life, someone who could make him happy.

“John, there is someone we want you to meet, so I was hoping you could come this evening and then maybe the two of you could spend some time together.” Hannah said this cheerfully, and then waited for her dutiful son to tell her he could actually come when she wanted him to.

John nearly dropped his phone. Meet someone? Oh, my god, is my mother trying to set me up? He took a deep breath. “Mother, what do you mean? You can’t really be talking about a date, can you? Because if you are, please, stop immediately. I am perfectly capable of finding women to go out with on my own.”

“No John, you aren’t. You haven’t been on a date in months, you said so yourself at Christmas. And you said you wanted to meet someone, so here’s your chance. She’s lovely. Well, actually, we haven’t met her, but that’s what her mother tells us. She has a degree in fashion design, loves cats and wants to settle down too. So, what time can you come over tonight? We were hoping about 7:30.”

“Mother, I can’t come. … Because I have a date. … Yes, a date. … No, I won’t tell you with whom, but it’s my third date with this woman, so, I really don’t want to meet someone else right now, I’m working on a new relationship. … No, I won’t tell you. … Mother, I’m not going to talk about it. … No. … I’m hanging up now, Mother.” John closed his phone and shook his head. Cats? They’ll be after me now to tell them. How are they going to feel about it being Margaret?

***

John stood in the foyer of the gallery, and took in the sight in front of him. Margaret had her coat on when he picked her up in the dorm lobby. John had been running late and Margaret had offered to come downstairs to meet him, rather than wait for him in the suite, so he hadn’t seen what she was wearing tonight. He helped her off with her coat and saw the shirt, and drew in a breath. Very nice. Who would think a simple white shirt would look so sexy? Margaret had on a long sleeved white shirt with her charcoal pants. The shirt had ruffle trim down the front, and long french cuffs. It was open at the throat, with the v neck ending where the ruffles joined from each side. Not a v neck like the wrap thing, but she looks gorgeous … 

“John, John,” a voice dragged John’s thoughts and eyes away from Margaret’s throat. He turned and saw Frank, the man whose show this was. They shook hands and John introduced Margaret to Frank and his girlfriend Nita. “John, I’m so glad you could come. Quite a few people here already, so I’ll leave you to look around while I’m on greeting duty. Help yourself to the wine and cheese, and I’m sure I’ll see you later.

John and Margaret started to move slowly around the gallery. It was quite a large space, but Frank’s pieces were displayed all on one floor, in just four rooms. He had been an art major in college, and had struggled to make a living with his painting. Many of the canvases were abstracts, and Frank was obviously heavily invested in reds and blues. This was his second show in the past six months, and he was hoping it would be as successful as the first and that he could give up his bartending job soon.

“John, it’s great to see you again so soon.” Margaret heard a small groan from John, but he turned and smiled as Keith came towards them, a wine glass in one hand, the other outstretched to grab John’s hand. “Well, well, who have we here?” he grinned as he turned toward Margaret. “Hi, I’m Keith Simpson, where has John been hiding you? John, you haven’t introduced us, I would definitely have remembered.”

Margaret smiled at Keith, and extended her hand to him. “Hello, my name is Margaret Hale.” He took her hand, gently pulling Margaret closer and leaning in to kiss her. Margaret managed to turn her head just in time to avoid his mouth getting too close to hers for her comfort. He stood back and looked her up and down, slowly, grinning. She wasn’t sure if she could describe the way he was looking at her, but she suddenly wished that her shirt were buttoned up to her throat. She turned toward John, who put his arm around her shoulder and drew her closer, away from Keith.

“Keith, good to see you. How have you been?” John forced a smile again, wishing Keith would turn around and walk back out. I certainly don’t want Margaret to think this guy is typical of my friends.

“I’m feeling better by the minute, John. Very nice wine David has put out. So, Margaret, is John neglecting you? I see you don’t have anything to drink. Can I get you some wine?” asked Keith. 

“Thank you, I don’t drink wine. But I would like some water, John,” she smiled up at him, turning away from Keith. As John walked to another room to get her water, Margaret realized her request had produced an unintended result. She was now left standing alone with Keith, who moved closer, putting his hand on her elbow to lead her to view some paintings he said had impressed him.

As they walked into another room, Margaret saw a familiar face. “Ms Latimer, how nice to see you again. Do you know Mr Simpson?” Ann turned when she heard Margaret and smiled at her, then frowned as she saw her in the clutches of Keith. She can’t be here with him, can she?

“Margaret, please call me Ann.” Ann introduced Margaret and Keith to Franco. “So Keith, how are you doing? What are you working at now?” Just as Keith was about to bore them with the details of currency trading, John walked in, searching for Margaret.

“There you are, thought Keith had absconded with you. Here’s your water. Ann, you look lovely tonight.” John smiled at her and took a good look at Franco. They were introduced and talked briefly, and then Ann suggested that they should have dinner together one evening. Keith looked from one couple to the other, his gaze lingering on Margaret, then excused himself to get more wine.

***

“It was nice seeing you tonight Ann, and Franco, I’m glad we finally met. Margaret and I are going to leave, as soon as I find her again.” John had started looking in each room, but hadn’t found where Margaret had disappeared to yet. 

“John, I think she went to the ladies’ room, one flight down. And Keith disappeared just after she left the room,” Ann said, looking at John with raised eyebrows. John rolled his eyes and headed for the stairway.

Margaret had come out of the ladies’ and turned toward the stairs, where she saw Keith leaning against the wall, watching her. She hesitated, but just for a moment, and started to walk past him towards the stairs, nodding at him as she went by. But he reached out and held her arm, and Margaret had to turn to face him. “Keith, I’m going back upstairs. John is waiting for me.”

“Margaret, please, give me just a minute. I can’t really ask you out properly while John is hovering over us, now can I?” He smiled as he saw her surprise. “Why are you surprised? You’re beautiful, smart, and you have a great body.” He smiled, obviously thinking Margaret was flattered by what he said, completely misinterpreting the flush in her face. “What do you think? Tomorrow night? Dinner?” he asked as he moved much closer.

“No thank you. Good night.” Margaret tried to turn away, but he held onto her arm. He turned Margaret so her back was against the wall. He leaned in closer, smiling, and holding her chin with one hand, turning her face towards him, tried to kiss her. 

“Let me go, please, right now,” she said, turning her head to avoid his kiss, smelling the alcohol on his breath. She raised her hands to his chest and tried to push him away. “Stop … ” Margaret was suddenly released from his grip, and saw John standing there, pushing Keith away from her, an angry scowl on his face.

“Margaret, are you all right? Did he hurt you?” John growled.

“Of course I didn’t hurt her, I thought she’d like a kiss, that’s all. John, we’re friends, I would never … ” Keith stopped talking, seeing the murderous glare John was giving him.

“I’m fine, John. Can we just leave, please?” Margaret quickly started towards the stairs. “Please, John, he was just rude, don’t … ” She held out her hand to John, who glared once more at Keith, and then took her hand to walk upstairs with her. When they reached the top of the stairs, John stopped and put his arms around her and hugged her close, sighing.

“I’m sorry, Margaret. Sure you’re okay? Then let’s get out of here.” As they walked out, John wondered what it was about Margaret that seemed to attract trouble.

***

John heard the little sigh and he smiled as she snuggled closer to his chest. Tonight had been everything he’d hoped for. He thought she would be hesitant, shy, perhaps afraid after what had happened at the gallery, but she hadn’t. They had come to his apartment, to ‘relax’. He had started a fire and they had sat on the sofa, watching the flames, enjoying the closeness, not having to say anything. 

And then he had kissed her, slowly, softly, lingering on those beautiful lips. And she had smiled and then kissed him back just as he had kissed her. She opened her eyes and raised her eyebrows and smiled at him. And now it was an hour later, an hour that they had spent in each other’s arms, slowly exploring each other’s face, lips, mouth and of course, neck. He loved Margaret’s neck, and the little moans she made when he kissed her on the neck near her shoulder. It made her shiver in the sexiest way.

She had inhaled suddenly when the tip of his tongue had first touched her lips, and that opened her mouth. But he waited, not venturing further, just lightly, briefly licking her lips. He smiled at her with half closed eyes, and she smiled back, and then they explored some more, Margaret tentative at first, but following his lead. She was delicious.

But it was time, time to take her home. It was so tempting to just stay here, but … He shook his head, looking at that shirt and how Margaret’s throat looked. He had kissed her there, below the hollow of her throat, touching her only with his lips and tongue. She tasted sweet, smelled so good, felt so good … John had been aroused to the point of discomfort some time ago. He had shifted a few times, and heard little noises of protest from Margaret as she thought he was going to get up from the sofa and leave her. 

“Don’t worry, Margaret, I’m not leaving you,” he had whispered. And then he did leave, but not physically.

Because tonight had also been everything John had feared. Painful memories had surfaced, totally unexpected, blindsiding him as he held Margaret in his arms. Katherine. I felt this way with Katherine. We can’t do more, it’s too soon, for her certainly, and for me. I’ve made a mistake before, letting my body take the lead over my head, giving my heart too quickly, to someone who didn’t want it. Thinking I was in love, not knowing what she … I won’t do that again, I won’t go through that pain again. But how slowly … at what point … I know Margaret isn’t Katherine, but … . John kissed her again and then stood up.

***

“Margaret, classes start in two days. We’ll both be pretty busy for a while, so maybe we shouldn’t go out again for a while. What do you think?” John smiled, but didn’t look Margaret in the eye.

Margaret was bewildered. They were standing outside the suite, there were lots of people passing by, so there would be no private conversation. John had said he wouldn’t go in, he needed to get home again. This evening was wonderful, special, and now we shouldn’t see each other? Something happened, at some point there was a look in John’s eye that I’ve never seen before, and he turned away from me.

“Fine, John. Thank you for this evening. Good night,” she said and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Margaret disappeared into the suite and John drove home alone, both of them wondering what he had just done.


	27. A New Professor; An Old Friend

It was week three of the second semester. Margaret, Fran and Edith had settled back in at the suite and Fred and David were regular visitors. John, however, had not been by since that night he left Margaret at the door, saying they shouldn’t see each other for a while. 

“But Margaret, what happened? You seemed so happy, and I thought John was too,” Fran said. She had noticed right away after the last date that Margaret seemed upset, and then John hadn’t called or come around. “What did he do? Did he get too … um … ?” Fran just raised her eyebrows, not wanting to pry, but wondering if her brother had been too forward with Margaret too quickly, frightening her. Fran didn’t really have much dating experience herself, but she had talked often enough with other girls, and knew that some boys, men, moved a lot faster in relationships than girls liked.

“I don’t know what happened. I thought we had a really good time Saturday night, and then he just said we shouldn’t see each other. I must have done something wrong, Fran, I just don’t know what it was.” Margaret sighed. “I … he … other women would probably know … I don’t know,” she said, her voice trailing off. 

Margaret saw the look on Fran’s face. “You mustn’t say anything to him, Fran, please. He just doesn’t want to go out with me anymore. Please, please don’t say anything.”

“I won’t Margaret. I just don’t understand, but, don’t worry, I won’t say anything.” And none of them talked about it again, although Margaret couldn’t stop thinking about it, wondering what she had done wrong, thinking her inexperience in dating and men had turned John away from her. How will I know next time if I can’t figure out what happened this time? Next time? I don’t want a next time, I want this time … … I don’t have a choice.

***

Margaret was enjoying her classes, particularly Introductory Psychology, taught by a professor new to Mills. She had asked Uncle Adam if he knew Professor Lennox and he had said he knew him by reputation only, as an often published researcher, a teacher of many years experience. Uncle Adam had been less than enthusiastic, which was very unlike him, but he had simply said that it was because he didn’t know him personally, so didn’t want Margaret to form an opinion of him from what little he knew.

Professor Lennox acknowledged within the first five minutes of the first lecture that he had been teaching this particular course for so long that he no longer paid any attention to the textbook in structuring his lectures. “But you had better pay attention. There are many theories to learn, many areas of study, they are in the book, and I will expect you to know all of them. There will be five quizzes, announced ahead of time, five unannounced quizzes, one final exam and social science lab work. I’m not your father. If you don’t come to class, your problem. If you don’t do your reading assignments, your problem. If you don’t pass the tests, your problem. Any questions?” No one raised a hand, and the lecture started.

Margaret had listened to what the professor had said and thought of her father. He had always told Margaret that she was responsible for her own success or failure. All she had to do was work hard, apply herself, and she couldn’t fail. He told her he was raising her to be able to take care of herself, because there would come a time when he wouldn’t be there to help her. Well, he was certainly right about that, she thought wryly.

“Ms Hale, can you stay after class, please?” Professor Lennox was looking at her, and Margaret nodded in the affirmative. I couldn’t have done anything wrong this quickly. No tests yet, and I’ve been to every class.

“Professor Lennox, you wanted to see me?” All of the other students had moved on to other classes and they were alone in the lecture hall, but he wasn’t saying anything, he seemed to be studying her. She felt him looking her over very openly and very thoroughly, and she blushed. He was rather good looking, about her father’s age, but he looked a bit soft where her father had been extremely fit. He continued to stare at her and she began to feel uncomfortable, and he carefully gauged her discomfort as he watched her, and waited.

Just as Margaret looked ready to bolt, he spoke. “Ms Hale, I am glad to meet you. Are you enjoying the class?” He sat on the edge of the desk on the platform, motioning for Margaret to sit in the chair.

“Yes, sir, I am.” Margaret sat down, wondering what this could be about. He was staring again, looking down on her from the edge of the desk. Perhaps this is how he gets to know students. Maybe this is what psychology professors do. 

“I’ve heard, well, read, quite a bit about you.” He saw Margaret’s eyes widen and he smiled. “You must realize that what happened to you two months ago was in the newspapers?”

“Yes, sir,” she said quietly, “but no one talks about it anymore. My friends don’t say anything.” She looked down at the floor. What does he want? I don’t want to talk about that.

“Ms Hale, it was certainly not my intention to upset you. I apologize if that’s what I’ve done. But when I saw that you were taking this class, I thought … Well, I do a lot of private therapy, completely separate from my teaching, and I often take on interesting cases at no charge.” He saw a flash in Margaret’s eyes and he smiled inwardly. This one’s something, she doesn’t like being thought of as a ‘case’ and she doesn’t want to talk about it with me. As if something so extraordinary is just going to go away if she doesn’t think about it or talk about it. Well, this could be interesting. 

Very attractive, beautiful eyes, and a nice figure. Although the clothes - she’s hiding herself, doesn’t want men looking at her? Hmmm. Really uncomfortable with me staring, but too polite to leave, perhaps taught to be submissive to authority, can’t challenge me? He smiled and waited.

“Professor Lennox, I … I’m not upset, I just have no interest in talking about what happened. I’ve put it behind me, I never think about it.” Margaret bit her lower lip. Maybe I could just leave now, just say goodbye. As she opened her mouth to do just that, he spoke again.

“Ms Hale, as a psychologist, I must say that I know what you just said is not true.” He smiled again at the startled look. The thought of lying to an authority figure, startling? Wonder how strict her upbringing was, controlling father, submissive mother? 

“No, no, please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not calling you a liar, absolutely not. But really, no one gets kidnapped and never thinks of it again, particularly when a trial will be starting in the next two or three months. Of course, I am sure you would like to forget it completely, but our brains don’t let go of things so easily, unless you were so traumatized that it has completely disappeared from your mind. Again, that’s not the case, is it, Ms Hale?” He smiled at her, a friendly smile, an ‘I only want to help’ smile. And then he just waited again, staring again.

Margaret shifted uncomfortably. She had tried to put the trial out of her mind, but yes, she certainly was nervous about it. She would have to testify against Mr Boucher and his friend. She was worried about Jared and hoping her testimony about what happened wouldn’t be used against him. He was building a new life with the Fallons, meeting more people his own age, trying to move on without his family, who still shunned him. 

He saw Margaret frown and shake her head. She didn’t want to think about the trial, and she certainly didn’t want to talk about it with a stranger. He’s only trying to be nice, offering help. He can’t know that you don’t want to talk about it.

She took a deep breath. “No, you’re right, it hasn’t disappeared from my mind. But I try not to think about it at all, and Uncle Adam is hoping there won’t be a trial. He said if they plead guilty, we won’t have to go to court.” She saw a quizzical look when she said ‘Uncle Adam’, so she explained that was Professor Bell. 

“Well, Ms Hale, I don’t want to keep you any longer. Please do consider my offer of private counseling, even if you don’t want to talk about the kidnapping itself. There are so many other issues that surface when something like this happens, and I would hope that you would help yourself and everyone who cares for you by working through those issues, if not with me, then at least with a professional.” He smiled and said good day and Margaret left, wondering if she really had ‘issues’ she needed to talk about. She had talked to Sarah Collins just twice, but couldn’t go back there. Sarah had accepted a job in New York, and Margaret didn’t know her replacement here.

Henry smiled to himself as Margaret disappeared out the door. That went well. When Henry had read about Margaret in the local papers, he had thought it might be interesting to talk to her. You never knew when the psychological consequences of such experiences might be incorporated in a paper, so you did interviews and just filed them away for possible use later. He had made several casual inquiries about Margaret in the past month, and now that he’d met her, he was certain he wanted to hear her whole story. 

He had pretended not to know of her relationship with Adam Bell, but of course, he had learned a great deal about Margaret before he scheduled this little introductory talk. After his initial research, he had looked forward to meeting her, and he had guessed who she was the first day of class when she came in and sat by herself, not chatting with anyone. She had seemed a bit shy with the other students, serious in her demeanor in class. She would make a very interesting case indeed. And the fact that she was a beautiful young woman - a bonus, Henry thought with a smile.

***

John was in the faculty lounge for a cup of coffee before heading off to class. John had not seen Margaret since two days before classes started. They had both been busy, but if he was honest with himself, that wasn’t the reason why. John had been floored when he realized how quickly he had grown to … care for … Margaret, and the intensity of his feelings for her after just three dates had completely unnerved him. It had made him think of the intense feelings he’d had for Katherine, the months of depression after she left. He had gotten it so wrong last time, he couldn’t do that again. But what to do? He wanted what he felt for Margaret, wanted to see her, wanted the commitment to her that love would bring - what was stopping him?

John glanced out the window, then blinked and shook his head. It can’t be. She’s … I don’t know where, but not here. No, it can’t be. John watched the woman walk rapidly up the sidewalk to the next building and into the door. He suddenly realized he’d been holding his breath. She looked just like Katherine, walked just like her. It can’t be, there’s no reason for her to be here. He briefly considered walking over to that other building, then realized he would be late for his class if he did. John walked slowly to class, shaking his head over the tricks his mind was playing on him. I’ve got to sort myself out. 

When John’s class was finished, he walked outside and took out his cell phone. He wanted to let his mother know what time he would be there the next afternoon. She and Aunt Belle wanted to clear out some of the furniture he had moved to the basement several months earlier and had asked him to come over to sort through what was to go. 

Of course, there would be another interrogation. Once they’d found out he was dating, they’d asked a lot of questions, and John had refused to talk about it. He and Fran had Sunday dinner there just four days ago, and his mother had asked Fran if she knew the woman John was dating. Fran looked at John for a few moments and he squirmed almost visibly. He knew she was unhappy with the way he had treated Margaret, although she hadn’t said a word to him about it. But Fran simply told them she knew the woman but it was John’s place to talk about it. He was too embarrassed to tell them that he’d had a panic attack and stopped seeing her. Is that what’s happened? Have I actually stopped seeing Margaret? No, no. We’re just taking a break, that’s all. … Really? So how long is this break going to be, you idiot?

As he opened the phone and pressed the speed dial number for home, he looked up and saw her again, walking towards him. John stood there dumbstruck, forgetting the phone in his hand, not hearing Hannah on the other end saying ‘hello, hello’, staring at the woman now standing right in front of him. “Katherine?” he breathed, as he looked into the smokey grey eyes of the woman who had broken his heart almost four years earlier.

Katherine flung her arms around John and hugged him. “John, I can’t believe it! You’re here! I thought you would have left when you graduated. Oh, it’s wonderful to see you.” She stepped back and saw the bewilderment in his eyes, and laughed lightly. “John, someone is talking to you on your cell. John, your cell?”

John looked down at his hand, and slowly put the phone to his ear. Nothing. She must have hung up. He slowly closed the phone and shoved it in his pocket. He looked at her, standing there with a huge smile on her face. If anything, she was more beautiful than he remembered. Her hair was a bit shorter, but still that gorgeous mahogany color, flawless skin, dazzling smile. John felt light headed and a bit foolish. He hadn’t been able to say an intelligible word yet. Get hold of yourself! You heard she got married. She must still be … John stole a quick look at her left hand. A simple gold band declared her off limits. He took a deep breath.

“Katherine, uh … what are you doing back at Mills? Where have you been, what have you been doing?” He shook his head and smiled ruefully. “Too many questions, I know. So, how are you?”

“Buy me a cup of coffee and I’ll catch you up,” she grinned at him. “Oh, John, this is just too good to be true!”


	28. Catching Up; Apologies

John was sitting at the table, still in shock. Katherine - here! They had been talking for fifteen minutes, catching up on others from their class and general news. Katherine had seen several friends at a conference just two months earlier, and she talked about that for quite some time, how much money they were making, what kind of job title they had. John kept stealing nervous glances at her, and then looking away. She had gone to the ladies’ room a couple of minutes ago, and John was sitting alone now, trying to collect his thoughts and control his breathing. The tension he was feeling was draining, and he hadn’t yet registered what she was actually talking about. She’s married. She’s as gorgeous as ever - but married.

When they had first sat down, Katherine had grabbed his hand and told him how happy she was to have found him so unexpectedly. She had been on campus for an interview, hoping to get a position with the university administration. “It’s early yet, I’ve only been back in the area for a couple of weeks and am just in the middle of interviews. I really want to get back to work soon.” 

She came back to their table, looking around at the other tables before she sat down. She smiled and, taking his hand again, said, “But tell me what you are doing here, John. I was so surprised to see you! I was sure you would have moved away once you got your degree. What in the world kept you here?”

John had swallowed hard, looking at her hand holding his, the hand with the wedding ring on it, and she withdrew, flushing. He looked up at her and smiled, shaking his head. “Well, Fran started at Mills in September and I wanted to be close by while she found her way. You know, big brother there for advice. She lives in a suite with two other women … ” John took a deep breath and briefly looked away, vaguely disappointed. She doesn’t remember how important my family is to me, that I always said I would stay here for Fran. “Anyway, she’s doing well, made a lot of friends, and she’s dating a nice guy. So, I really feel comfortable about her being on her own now.”

“And the rest of your family? You still live at home?” she asked, not looking at him, trying to hide the smirk on her face. Hannah had not liked Katherine, not that John’s feelings for her had ever wavered because of Hannah’s opinion. But she hadn’t liked Hannah either and she wondered how John was coping. She almost rolled her eyes at the thought that he was still living with his mother at his age. 

John saw the look and knew what was behind the question. Hannah had let her disapproval of Katherine be known, in no uncertain terms. But at the time Hannah hadn’t really liked anyone. Her opinion of his friends, or lovers, wasn’t something that really influenced John at the time, and Katherine had known that. But he couldn’t fail to recognize the veiled jibe at his mother and himself in her questions. 

“Well, my mother is great, actually. Her older sister came to live with her a few months ago and they are getting on famously now.” John smiled, thinking of the changes in Hannah’s attitudes in the past couple of months. “And of course, I have my own apartment in town, have had for several years. I keep in touch with them and with Fran, you know, family dinners and things.”

“Where are you working? Or are you still writing your computer programs? Selling games?” she laughed.

“Yes, I’m still writing computer programs,” he said, keeping his annoyance hidden. John had written game programs, but only in high school. For some reason, Katherine had always teased him about that, treating his coding skills as something he would grow out of, not as a foundation for a lucrative career. She had never been interested in seeing what his investment programs could do, had never taken it seriously. He had forgotten that about her, that she was so self-centered. He had been too much in love to see any flaws. “I’ve licenced several programs for investment, and right now I’m a partner at Hamper & Corcoran downtown. And, I’m an adjunct teaching economics courses here this year. It was a good way to stay nearby for Fran, and I’ve really enjoyed it. I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to teach next year.”

“But Katherine, tell me, how did you wind up outside the university administration building on a Thursday afternoon in February? What are you doing here?” And where is your husband?

“I just had an interview for a job here. I finished my degree just two years ago, at UCSD, and worked with a team developing education and training for businesses at the management school. It was very interesting work, but I was definitely lower level, without experience when I signed on, so not much money or prestige. I’m hoping to work in a similar program here. Mills’ program is really still in development and I could really do well if I could get in on the ground floor, but we’ll see. I’m pretty excited about the opportunity, but realistically, there are a lot of candidates for the job, so I’m doing several other interviews. Pretty difficult when you’ve been uprooted and moved from one side of the country to the other, with no say in it.”

John frowned slightly. UCSD? Where have I heard that recently? He couldn’t remember, but something wasn’t quite right, and she certainly didn’t sound thrilled that she was back. Well, why not just ask what you’re wondering? What do you have to lose? “So, what exactly did you do when you left Mills? It was quite a shock to hear you weren’t coming back,” John asked. “We heard you got married on break,” John said lightly, but both of them knew it wasn’t a casual question. Katherine had known all along how John felt about her, had known what his hopes were, although she had never acknowledged that to him.

“Well,” she laughed nervously, looking down at her coffee, “I certainly didn’t plan what happened, it was as big a shock to me as it was to everyone else, I think. I met Henry in Ft. Lauderdale. We were staying at the same hotel, and he helped me with a little problem I was having with a guy who simply wouldn’t leave me alone. One thing led to another, we spent a lot of time together talking, and found we had so many similar interests. It was such a surprise to me, I hadn’t expected to meet someone,” she said, glancing quickly up at John. “It happened so fast, I don’t think I had time to think about what we were doing. Of course, I went back to Emory with Henry, he was teaching there at the time.”

“Henry? Henry’s a teacher, at a university?” John asked, a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach. It can’t be.

“Yes, he teaches psychology and he’s just come on to the faculty here at Mills. He had been restless, he didn’t really like California very much. We were at UCSD for just three years, but at least I got my degree finished there. He had a tenured position, and wouldn’t have come if tenure hadn’t been offered here. It was a good opportunity, for him at least. I didn’t really want to leave California, but, well, his career comes first. He’s been at this longer than I have, and he makes a lot more money than I do, so we go where he can get the best job,” she sighed, and then looked up. 

She studied John for a moment, then smiled. “Anyway, he’s my husband and he was coming here, so here we are. I’ll make sure he makes it up to me, uprooting us again so soon.“ John heard a distinct edge to her voice when she said that. Not a happy marriage. “You’ll have to come for dinner, meet Henry.”

“Actually, I have met him. Henry Lennox, right? There was a faculty meet before classes started and we talked for a bit. He seemed … distracted that night. Probably met so many new people he couldn’t keep track of us all,” John smiled at her, remembering that Henry’s attention had been totally distracted by every young woman in the room that night.

They were both silent for a few minutes, John thinking about Henry and the definite tone of dissatisfaction - or was it anger? - she had when speaking of him, Katherine thinking of the many arguments she and Henry had in the past three months about their future together. She hesitated, and then she smiled at John as she reached across the table and put her hand on his again. “So, John, how about you? Are you married, with someone?”

“Well, I’ve been pretty busy with my work, teaching, coding. Just haven’t … ” John’s voice trailed off as he frowned. Don’t. Don’t you dare say you haven’t found the right person yet. “There is someone, and … I hope … ” John couldn’t continue, and sat there, wondering what in the world he was doing here with this woman, who could never be more than a friend, and after listening to her today, perhaps not even that now. Did I ever really know her? All I’m hearing is money and prestige and anger. She certainly doesn’t know me or what’s important to me, if she ever did. She’s unhappy, but that’s not my problem. … I’ve been a fool, worrying about what happened years ago with Katherine. I had it all wrong then, and never knew it. What a fool I’ve been! I have to talk to Margaret.

***

“John, isn’t that Keith Simpson who just came in? Over there, by the window, with that young woman?” Katherine nodded towards another table and John turned. Katherine saw what looked like shock on John’s face and then an angry frown. “What? Do you know her?”

“Yes, that’s Keith, and yes, I know her. She’s my sister’s roommate, well, one of them. I don’t know what they are doing together, I … They just met three weeks ago and it was not a happy encounter.” John continued to stare at Keith and Margaret, shaking his head. He assaulted her! How could she be with him?

“John, it’s getting late and I have another interview this afternoon that I have to get to. Walk me to my car?” Katherine smiled at him as she stood, and held out her hand for his. John looked down at her hand, wondering what she was playing at with all the touching she had done today. Well, if it’s a game, I’m not playing. He took her elbow instead and guided her to the door, avoiding looking over to where Keith and Margaret were sitting, deep in conversation.

***

Keith had appeared at Margaret’s suite one week after their encounter at the art gallery, bearing flowers and asking to talk to her. When Margaret opened the door, she was startled to see him and not a little wary of inviting him inside. But Edith and David were there, so Margaret stepped aside and let Keith walk in. Margaret was never one to turn people away; until they proved otherwise, she believed people could change for the better. However, she sat on the edge of a chair, ready to bolt if need be, facing Keith sitting on the sofa.

He took a deep breath. He knew what he wanted to say and hoped he could get it all out without sounding too … pathetic. “Margaret, it’s very kind of you to talk to me after what happened Saturday night. No, not what happened - what I did. I am so sorry. My stupidity shocked me when I faced myself the next morning, and I’m here to apologize. I won’t, I can’t offer any excuses, I was totally out of bounds. I frightened you and I am very sorry for that.” 

He paused, taking a deep breath, thankful she had let him say what needed to be said. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t forgive me, but … I am asking for another chance, to be friends, that’s all, just friends. I know you are seeing John …” Keith stopped when he saw Margaret flush. 

“I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing, Margaret. I don’t want to upset you. I just wanted to come and apologize in person. I won’t stay, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I hope you’ll think about this, perhaps we could meet for coffee one day, with John or another friend, of course.” He saw something again in Margaret’s face, but she didn’t say anything, so he stood to leave. 

“Thank you for letting me in, trusting me enough not to be a total jerk again. My behaviour didn’t warrant that trust, so thank you for that.” He hesitated a moment, then asked, “Would you mind, could I call some time, for that cup of coffee?” he smiled.

And today they had met for the second time for coffee. To her surprise, Margaret was beginning to feel at ease with Keith. When he had asked her if he should call John and tell him that he was meeting Margaret, and ask him to join them, Margaret had simply said no, and had not invited any further discussion of the subject. Today Keith had asked her how John was doing this semester.

Margaret hesitated just a moment, then said, “I don’t know, Keith. I haven’t seen him since the night at the gallery.” 

Keith heard the wistful tone of voice. “I’m sorry Margaret. He’s a fool if he’s stopped seeing you.” He saw her blush and he looked away, wishing to be more than friends, but realizing he had ruined that possibility on their first encounter, just as he had ruined so many other things with his drinking. Giving that up was harder than he had ever thought it could be, and he wasn’t sure he could do it, wasn’t sure he would succeed, but he had made a start and was sticking to it. Making amends to Margaret had helped, but he had a long way to go.

Margaret was telling Keith about her classes and, hesitating for a moment, thinking about what had just happened after class, she said she wanted to ask him about one of her professors. And then she saw a look of surprise on Keith’s face. “What? What’s the matter?” She turned to see what he was looking at and saw them, sitting at another table, the woman’s hand on his. Margaret turned back and looked down at the table, blinking back the tears, swallowing. So there is someone else, someone his own age. She’s beautiful. She looked up at Keith and smiled, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

“Margaret, do you want to leave? If you’re not comfortable here, we can go somewhere else. I don’t mind, I have another half hour before I have to get back.”

“No, that would be childish. I’m fine. I can’t run away from people who don’t like me,” Margaret closed her eyes and looked down quickly, as she felt a pain in her chest - people who don’t like me - John. And I love him.

***

“Margaret, isn’t that your cell phone again? Do you want me to get it for you?” Fran started to get up and Margaret stopped her, shaking her head no.

“It’s John. I don’t want to talk to him. He’s already called twice today, and left messages. He saw me at the coffee shop with Keith this afternoon and scowled at us, Keith said. He probably wants to give me a ‘big brother’ lecture about the men in my life. Well, it’s none of his business, he’s with someone else now.” Fran sat on the sofa and put her arms around Margaret as she cried, unable to clear her mind of the picture of John holding hands with that woman.


	29. John's Issues

John was frustrated. Five days had gone by now, and he hadn’t been able to talk to Margaret. He had called her cell phone several times since he had seen her Thursday, but she never answered. He left messages, but she didn’t return his calls. She knows I’m calling, she just doesn’t want to talk to me. I can’t blame her, but she has to give me the chance to explain. But … What am I going to say? That I was afraid of falling in love? That the only woman I had loved before, my dream woman, turned out to be just that, a dream? That I had idealized someone who didn’t really know or care for me as I cared for her? That I was depressed for months when I should have been relieved at a lucky escape? How pathetic is that all going to sound? I know Margaret better than I ever knew Katherine, but is it too late? Did this, did I hurt her too much?

John had gone to his mother’s house Friday, as promised. Hannah and Aunt Belle were waiting for him. He steeled himself, knowing that their curiosity about the woman in his life had not diminished one bit. He was mildly surprised, but wary, when they didn’t ask any questions at all about his dating. They had talked before he came and had decided on a different strategy. Hannah would be going out, leaving only Belle there. They thought he might be less defensive.

“Mother, Aunt Belle, let’s take a look at what you want to get rid of.” John shed his jacket and they all went downstairs into the basement. Half an hour later, they had tagged the pieces they all agreed no one in the family wanted or needed. Three items were going to one of Andrew’s nephews in Pennsylvania who had a new apartment to furnish, the rest would be picked up by a local charity organization.

“John, you’re staying for lunch, right? I won’t be here, I have a class at the library on tutoring ESL students, but Belle would like the company,” Hannah said as she was getting her coat from the closet. She turned to look at John, and put her hand on his arm. “Are you all right? You seem a bit down, John. We worry.”

“I’m fine, mother. Yes, I’m staying for lunch, but I don’t know if I can come on Sunday. I’m,” he sighed heavily, “well, I don’t know what I’m doing yet this weekend.” 

Hannah smiled, patted his arm and left the house, saying, “Talk to Belle, John, please.”

***

They had talked casually over lunch, about Fran, about John’s work, about the book club. Belle hadn’t asked any questions about his dating, although they had realized by now that the dating seemed to have stopped. They’d tried questioning him for three weeks, and hadn’t gotten a thing out of him, so they were trying another tack. Belle had remembered what Hannah had said about John’s depression when an earlier love affair had ended, and the fact that he had never dated seriously again. Well, if John isn’t depressed now, I don’t know what depression is. So this affair has ended badly too, and so quickly? Perhaps he’s still thinking of the other woman?

“Did you know I had a marriage proposal last year?” she said, taking a sip of water, looking at him.

John looked at her in astonishment. “You’re kidding?” he said, none too flatteringly, she thought.

“Well, thank you very much, John, for letting me know you think I’m well past such things,” Aunt Belle said, with a very small smile on her face.

John had the grace to blush and mumble that he hadn’t meant anything of the kind. 

“Yes you did, but we’ll let that pass for now, young man.” She paused and he was relieved to see a smile on her face. “When I met Andrew, back in the dark ages,” she said sarcastically, and watched him blush, “he had a good mate that went everywhere with him when they were on leave. Richard,” she said with a sigh, “oh, he was a wonderful man, very much like Andrew, kind, generous, quite handsome actually, a wonderful sense of humor, a gift for living life fully, I thought.” She stopped, smiling to herself, remembering. “But of course, it was Andrew I fell in love with, wanted to marry. Richard asked me to marry him as soon as he found out Andrew had asked, he came right out and said he loved me and would make it his life’s work to make me happy.”

John just watched Aunt Belle as she stared out the window, astonished that she would be telling him this, curious as to the rest of her story, and wondering why she had suddenly spoken of it.

“Richard heard through the military grapevine of Andrew’s death, and three months later he called and we talked for quite a while, catching up. He called each week for two months, and then he came to see me a month after that. He got down on one knee and asked me to marry him and make him happy at last. Of course, I said no.” She stopped and looked out the window, sighing.

“Why? Why not marry again if he was such a wonderful man? Was it too soon after Uncle Andrew? Or, had he changed terribly?” John needed to hear why Aunt Belle turned down the chance for happiness again, and why she said ‘of course’.

Aunt Belle turned and looked at John for a while, and he wondered at the intensity of her stare. “John, he never married. He told me no one else could compare to me, and that he had waited, had kept himself for me, in the hope that some day, we could be together. He had this … image of me, this vision of our life together, and he never let anything or any one into his life that might threaten that. He lived in the past for more than twenty five years, afraid that if he lived his own life, this dream he had might not happen. What had happened decades ago determined his whole life. Fear … he lived in fear for so long that his dream wouldn’t happen. Of course he couldn’t be the same man.” 

They were both silent for a long time, and then Aunt Belle stood and walked around the table to John. She put her hand on his shoulder, and said, “Don’t be afraid to be happy, John. Put the past behind you, live for now.”

***

John spent the rest of Friday and Saturday in his apartment. He tried calling Margaret on her cell phone and at the suite, but still no response. So he was startled when his phone finally rang. At last! But it wasn’t Margaret, it was Katherine of all people, inviting John to dinner the following weekend to meet Henry again. “Oh, John, please bring the woman you’re dating. You never said her name, but you said there was someone, and we’d love to meet her.”

Why in the world did you accept that invitation? he thought as soon as he hung up. And John admitted to himself he wanted to see if Henry Lennox was really the dog he thought he was, and he was also curious to see Katherine interact with her husband. He had heard the anger and the sniping when they had coffee. Was it an aberration, or was that her life now? He had told them he didn’t know if he would be bringing anyone with him, he would have to let them know later in the week. And Katherine had teased him about letting his girlfriend rule his life. 

John was angry when he hung up the phone, but not with her. He was angry with himself, with the way he reacted to her comments. She’s talking to me as if we were still good friends, still … intimate. What makes her think she can do that? Because she thinks you haven’t moved on. She saw something, when you first saw her that day, when you talked at the coffee shop, saw that her appearance really affected you, guessed that you never got over losing her. Well, is she right? Or have you moved on?

As John stood there, looking around his apartment, he knew for certain the answer to that question. Everywhere he looked, he saw her, he saw Margaret. He saw her in his kitchen, eating breakfast with him that morning, enjoying the comfortable silence of being in each other’s company; in his bathroom, putting on damp ‘things’ behind closed doors; on his sofa, curled into his side on that third date, making little protests at any movement he made that separated them; and in his bed … without him, of course, but there, nevertheless. He had lain that night in his bed after taking her home, the faintest fragrance of her surrounding him as he drifted off to sleep, a contented smile on his face. I need her back here, I need her, I miss her … I … John fell asleep that night dreaming of Margaret, again.

***

John went to the suite Sunday morning. He wasn’t going to leave any more voice messages for Margaret, he was going to confront her directly. He had to talk to her. When Fran opened the door, John walked in and looked at Margaret’s closed door. “Fran, I’m here to see Margaret. Would you please tell her I’m here?”

John walked over to the sofa and turned to sit when he heard Fran say, “No.”

“What? Why not? Fran, I have to speak to her, she won’t answer my phone calls. I can’t stand this any more, I need to see her.”

“Margaret’s not here. She left early this morning.” Fran just stood there, her arms folded across her chest, her displeasure with her brother written on her face.

“Where did she go? With whom?” John demanded angrily. She had better not be with Keith.

Fran just shook her head and said nothing. John walked back to her and glowered at her. “Fran, I know you’re angry at me, you’ve been dying to tell me off for three weeks now. Just do it and then tell me where she is.”

“I have nothing to say to you about Margaret, because she asked me not to say anything. But you’re right, I am angry. You … ” and then she stopped. “I’m not going to say anything else, and I’m not telling you where she is, it’s none of your business. You made it none of your business,” she said with an accusing tone.

“Franny, please,” John said pleadingly. He hadn’t called her that in years, it was his pet name for her when she was a child. “Please, I’ve made a terrible mistake, you can’t make me feel worse than I already do.”

Fran was beginning to feel sorry for her brother, seeing how upset he was, but … . “So, who was the woman you were with on Thursday, holding hands with, hmmm?” she asked. “Why come here and upset Margaret even more if you are already seeing someone else? She doesn’t need that, John. She really cared for you and you dumped her, no explanation, nothing. John, she’s my best friend. And my own brother … ” Fran just shook her head, she couldn’t say more, she was afraid she was going to cry in anger or frustration. John sighed heavily and held out his arms to Fran; she stepped into them and they hugged.

They both sat on the sofa, and Fran waited. She wasn’t going to say any more until she got some answers.

“Do you remember Katherine? The woman I was seeing four years ago? You went shopping with her a couple of times?” Fran nodded yes, frowning, puzzled that John would bring her up. Fran knew she had disappeared years ago and, even at her young age, Fran had sensed John had been quite upset. 

“Well, she turned up on Thursday. She’s back here and looking for a job at Mills. We ran into each other and went for coffee. The hand holding, well, we weren’t holding hands, although it might have looked like it. I have no idea what that was about, she just kept putting her hand on mine at the table. She’s married, to a new professor here, and she doesn’t sound happy at all. But Fran, none of that is important, I don’t care about her, I … ” He couldn’t say it, not to his sister, he would say it just to Margaret. “I need to see Margaret, to apologize. I miss her so much,” he said quietly.

Fran sat, watching her brother for a while, knowing he was waiting for her to tell him where Margaret was. “She’s in Pennsylvania, for Caleb’s trial, which starts tomorrow. She has to testify. The prosecutor said it should be just one day, but there could be delays. Anyway, she might be back tomorrow night, maybe Tuesday or Wednesday.”

John waited, but Fran didn’t say anything else. “Why didn’t she tell me? Who went with her?”

“Why didn’t she tell you? When were you around to be told? And she went with Fred and Guy.” She heard John groan. “Oh, stop it, John. Margaret and Guy are just friends now and you know it. They love each other as friends.”

John just shook his head, then thought of something else. “Tell me what she was doing with Keith. You know he assaulted her, don’t you? How could she go out with him?” he asked angrily.

“Yes, Margaret told me what happened. But they’re not dating, they’re friends. Keith has apologized to Margaret, sincerely, she said. You know Margaret, the past doesn’t matter to her if someone is kind now. Apparently, he had a drinking problem,” Fran said, ignoring John’s snort, “and he’s going to meetings and trying to turn things around. Well, Margaret can’t resist people who need help, you know that, so he’s been here a couple of times and they meet for coffee. He offered to call you and have you meet them, but, well, we know why that didn’t happen.” Fran started to glare at John again, but relented, seeing how miserable he was.

She frowned as she thought of something else. “John, I’m a little worried about something, but I’m not sure I should talk about it.” John looked up, raising his eyebrows questioningly. “Well, Margaret is taking psychology with a new professor.” Fran was startled as John sat up quickly. “What? I haven’t said anything yet.”

“Is it Lennox?” he asked, a sinking feeling again.

“Yes, that’s the name of the professor. How did you know? Margaret was really … well, kind of freaked by him the other day. He asked her to stay after class and then talked about the kidnapping, and she really doesn’t know why. She didn’t want to talk about it, but he kept at her. And she said he stared, a lot. He talked about her having therapy with him. It sounded really creepy, the way she described how he talked to her. Do you know him? I … I don’t know if I should have told you, but Margaret wouldn’t tell Uncle Adam or Fred, she said she was probably imagining things.”

“I’ve met him, and - you won’t believe this - Katherine is married to him, unhappily I think. When I met him, he never once looked me in the eye, he was too busy ogling the younger women in the room. I may be wrong about him, but he made me distinctly uneasy. Margaret should talk to Fred and Adam, and she should definitely change class. It sounds as if he’s coming on to her. Margaret’s so trusting, she won’t know if he’s up to something until it’s too late.”

“Well, she won’t tell them, and now maybe he’ll talk to her again if he finds out about this trial. But Margaret … well, he’s a teacher, and you’re right, you know how she was brought up, she listens to adults, she doesn’t think anything can be wrong. He sounds like a real creep to me. I’m just a bit worried, John,” she said, frowning at him.

“Fran, please, call me when Margaret gets back. I won’t ask anything else, just I need to talk to her. You know, tell her I’ve been here, fine. Tell her anything I said, that’s fine too. Just please tell her I need to see her. Will you do that?” John stood to leave and Fran gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

“It’ll be okay John, I’m sure it will.”

***

John had worked all day Monday, trying to keep his mind off the only subject he could think of. He had just finished his Tuesday class and heard his cell phone buzzing in his pocket, signaling a text message. It has to be Fran, no one else texts me. Margaret! He took out his phone and quickly read the message. She’s back, nothing else. 

John took a deep breath and called Margaret’s cell phone. His heart sank as the call went straight to voice mail. She still won’t talk to me.


	30. Margaret's Issues

Margaret looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy, her hair was a mess and the smile she tried looked like a grimace … Yesterday had been a really bad day, seeing John with his new girlfriend. New girlfriend? Hmmph. Do you really think three dates qualifies you as a girlfriend at all? She winced at her own thoughts, but she was determined. She was going to put this behind her, now that she knew he was definitely with someone else. Last night’s tears were the last she was going to shed for John Thornton! She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. It’s going to take more than determination to forget him.

After her shower, Margaret packed a small bag with some clothes. She wasn’t coming back to the suite for a few days. Then she went to find Fran. She needed to talk to her about their spring break week. Uncle Adam wanted to take her and Fred on a holiday, and said she could invite Fran and one other person she or they wanted. Margaret knew it wouldn’t be Edith, she was already planning to go home for her oldest brother’s marriage that week. Maybe … Margaret shook her head, annoyed with herself, she was supposed to be forgetting him … Guy? Better find out if he has any plans, it’s only four weeks away.

“Fran, have you made any plans yet for spring break? Because Uncle Adam wants to take us on holiday and we would be really happy if you were with us,” she said as she sat on the arm of the sofa, where Fran was curled up, still in her pajamas. Fran sat up, a smile forming as she opened her eyes and yawned. She was sleeping in, having no classes at all.

“Oh, that sounds great Margaret. Where are you going? And, very important question, is Fred going with you?” she grinned.

Margaret laughed. “Yes, Fred is going. But, it’s not a beach break, if that’s what you were hoping for. Uncle Adam wants to go to northern Arizona and Utah. He said he went there years ago, when Fred was small and they camped outdoors, and the scenery was spectacular. I’ve never really been anywhere out of this area and where I grew up, so … Anyway, I know that scenery might not be the most interesting thing for you, Fran, but I hope you’ll consider it. And Uncle Adam said we could invite one other person. I thought, maybe Guy?” she said, sounding a little unsure.

Fran knew why Margaret hesitated, that she had hoped someone else would want to go with them. “Why don’t we find out what Guy is doing that week? And I really don’t like the beach Margaret, I really don’t fancy Fred seeing me in my swimsuit at this point in our relationship. I’ll put that revelation off for as long as possible,” she laughed. “Of course, I’ll have to ask my mother. A whole week away, and Fred there too. She was good about that one overnight trip, but I know it was hard for her to say yes. I might need my big brother to help me,” she said, glancing at Margaret, wondering if she should have said that.

“If that’s what it takes, then do it, of course. We want you with us if you want to go, Fran. Uncle Adam is going to make all of the travel arrangements, once we know how many of us are going, so if you could talk to your mother soon, that would be good. Well, I have a class, then a swim lesson this evening, then home with Uncle Adam and Fred. We’re leaving early Sunday morning, so I probably won’t see you until some time next week, Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest,” and Margaret left the lounge, happy that she’d gotten the invitation to Fran and would hear about it the next week.

***

“Margaret, you’re doing great, just straighten that arm out and reach as far back over your head as you can.” Keith was in the water, walking alongside Margaret as she tried the backstroke, his hands resting very lightly at her shoulders and the small of her back. He was showing her the different swim strokes that they would be practicing over the next weeks and seeing how comfortable she was in the water. 

“Margaret, you seem so at ease in the water. How did you get to be such an old lady without knowing how to swim?” He laughed as she frowned and splashed him, pretending to be angry.

“I just never had the chance, Keith. How did you get to be such an old man without knowing anything about women?” she answered back with a grin. She saw the look on his face and quickly put her hand on his arm. “No, no, I didn’t mean anything bad, Keith. You teased me about taking forever to come out from the locker room, remember? Well, women have a few more things to get off, and a bit more of a struggle getting into these suits than men do. This thing is like a … ” Margaret stopped talking, almost having said ‘second skin’ to describe her bathing suit. She flushed and then they both laughed.

Keith had taught swimming when he was in high school, and had been on the swim team with John. When Margaret mentioned she needed to take swim lessons, after he got over his surprise, he offered to be her teacher. She agreed, as long as he accepted payment, but he told her that he couldn’t take money because she had already given him a very valuable gift and he hadn’t repaid her. Margaret was puzzled and asked what the gift was, and he said it was her trust. After the way they met, he said he hadn’t deserved it or expected it, which made it even more special, so she had to stop talking about money.

Keith pushed Margaret hard in the lesson, and they were both tired after an hour. When they met outside later, Keith said, “Margaret, you were going to tell me something yesterday, about a professor? You seemed worried. Did you still want to talk about it?”

Margaret nodded her head. She had been thinking about what Keith said about trust, and the way she thought she should trust all of her teachers. Now she was thinking back to how she felt about Professor Lennox when they’d had their talk. She started to talk hesitantly, trying to sort out in her mind exactly what made her feel so uncomfortable. 

“Well, I’m taking this psychology class. The professor is new here. He asked to talk to me yesterday and he talked about things I didn’t want to talk about, things I haven’t talked about with anyone for a while, but, well, I couldn’t leave. Each time I got ready to leave, he would start talking again, as if he knew exactly when he had to say something to keep me there.” She sighed heavily. “And he … he sat there, looking at me ... staring at me for the longest time, as if … ”

“Margaret, he didn’t touch you, did he? Or say, well, inappropriate things?” Keith asked quietly.

“No, no, nothing like that, but I felt trapped. Keith, he knew things about me. He told me he read about me in the papers. I felt like … I don’t know, he was studying me. But, well, he’s my teacher, I know I’m supposed to trust him, he’s supposed to teach me things … ” She stopped as she saw the frown on Keith’s face. 

“Have you told your uncle about this, Margaret?” She shook her head no. “This isn’t right. He doesn’t know you, he shouldn’t be talking to you about your personal life. You should tell your uncle, and if he does it again, bring a complaint against him.” He saw the alarm on Margaret’s face and shook his head. 

“Margaret, he has no right to make you feel uncomfortable. Take it from someone who has made a lot of women uncomfortable. I was stupid enough to think I was charming when I was drinking. I frightened you, don’t you remember that? Well, this guy has frightened you, and he doesn’t have that right. It doesn’t matter that he’s your teacher. Why don’t we tell your family right now, when I take you home?”

“No, please, really, I … I don’t think … I misunderstand people, I still get things wrong so easily. He was just offering help, and I have been trying really hard not to think about the trial coming up and his talking about it is probably what got me upset. I’m sure it won’t happen again, I’ve told him I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s forget it, I just feel better now that I’ve told you.”

Margaret didn’t say a word as Keith drove her home, mulling something over in her head, wondering if she should ask. She didn’t want to ask Fred or Guy, they were already concerned enough with the trial coming up. She took a deep breath. “Keith, I was wondering. I have another class with him on Tuesday, if we’re back in time. Could you meet me right after class?”

Keith smiled, knowing exactly what she was up to. Margaret wanted to be able to tell her professor that someone was waiting for her, just in case she needed an excuse to get away, and she didn’t want to lie, even to someone like that. His office was just five minutes from campus and her class was over at 12:15, perfect for a lunch break for him. “Just let me know that you’re back, and I’ll be waiting right outside the building, Margaret. And don’t worry about Monday, you’ll be fine. Good night.” 

***

Margaret licked her lips, they had gone completely dry from nervousness. She was sitting on a hard bench in the hall, every sound echoing loudly against the marble floor and walls. Fred sat on one side, Guy on the other, but she was completely alone with her thoughts, trembling in anticipation of what was to come. She had tried to forget about this, had tried to put it out of her mind completely, but reality pulled her back in. They had been waiting outside the courtroom for two hours already, and her nervousness increased with every minute.

They had left Mills early Sunday morning, and arrived at the farmhouse in time for a late lunch. Margaret had wanted to invite Jared, but Uncle Adam had told her the prosecutor didn’t want her to have any contact with the family before the trial, whether the family was shunning Jared or not. So Margaret had eaten a quiet lunch and then Fred and Guy accompanied her to the courthouse where the prosecutor had his office. 

Mr. Garvin had tried to put Margaret at ease. He knew she was fearful of what was to come, so he did his best to explain what she could expect once she was in the courtroom. “Margaret, juvenile proceedings are not as formal as trials for adults. The system is supposed to remain flexible to obtain the best outcome for the juvenile. So this judge decided there won’t be a jury in this case, even though Caleb’s attorney asked for one. So you get to focus on just one person as you tell your story.” He paused, noting that she hadn’t said a word yet, and said, “Margaret, let me know if I’m saying anything you don’t understand, all right?” She nodded silently, and loosened her grip a little on Fred’s hand.

He looked questioningly at Fred, and Fred asked Margaret quietly if she were okay. She smiled and shook her head yes. “I’m fine, let’s do this. I just wish … Have you seen Jared? Is he doing well?” She looked hopefully at the older man, wanting information, but also wanting to delay talking about Caleb.

“Actually, Margaret, I haven’t seen Jared, primarily because he is doing fine. I would only be contacted if there were problems. He’s kept every appointment with his attorney, has phoned in on time every week, is working. He’s been the model defendant. I know you’re worried about him, but we’re here for Caleb now. Let’s do our work on that, okay?” Margaret sighed and nodded yes. Fred and Guy left them and sat in an outer office. She spent the next two hours going over what had happened, reviewing what types of questions she could expect the next day, from both the prosecutor and Caleb’s attorney. She examined the exhibits the prosecutor would ask her about, looking at pictures of the house and that tiny room where she was imprisoned.

“Don’t worry, Margaret, you’ll do fine tomorrow. You’ve remembered the details very well,” pausing as he said that, realizing that it would have been very hard for her to forget what had happened to her. “Just try to get some rest tonight and I’ll see you tomorrow. The trial starts at 9:00 and I’d like you at the courthouse then, but you can’t come into the courtroom until you are called to testify. If you don’t have any questions, I’ll see you then.”

Margaret’s head snapped up when the door to the courtroom opened suddenly, and they saw the assistant prosecutor beckon Margaret to enter. All of them stood, Guy and Fred each taking a hand, and they walked into the courtroom. Margaret took a deep breath and looked up. Standing there between her brother and Guy, Margaret felt safe enough to look directly at Caleb, and now she saw him for what he was, a child. Big, brutal with her, but a child nevertheless, following his father’s orders, just as everyone in the Boucher family did. She straightened her back, took a deep breath and walked up to the witness chair and raised her hand.

Two hours later, they were done. Margaret felt nothing but relief that it was over. She was glad of the review the day before, or she would have been surprised and upset at the defense attorney’s attempt to imply that her injuries were minor and provoked by her own actions. Those questions were halted by the judge, as he sat examining the photos of her bruised face. The prosecutor had thanked her and assured her she wouldn’t be needed any more. They could go home.

***

Class was almost over. As usual, Margaret had found it interesting. She thought she was getting much more insight into the way people related to one another, something she had been slow at when she had first emerged from the cocoon her parents had kept her in for so long. They had returned from Pennsylvania this morning, so before she turned her phone off for class, she had texted Fran to let her know she was back and left a voice mail for Keith, to let him know to meet her outside. She stood to put her jacket on as she heard the professor say everyone should pick up the social science lab schedules for the following months from the desk before they left.

“Ms Hale, please stay after class for a few minutes,” Professor Lennox said quietly as she stopped briefly at the desk.

Margaret suddenly felt anxious. When Margaret told Fran all Professor Lennox had said to her, Fran told her she should have just gotten up and left without a backward glance. But they both knew Margaret wouldn’t do that, and maybe the professor knew that too. Fran and Keith had both told her to tell Uncle Adam, but she hadn’t. She thought it was just her imagination, the uneasiness she felt. Now … 

As the last of the students left the room, he looked at her and said, “Ms Hale, thank you for staying. Can you walk with me? I have some papers in my office that I want to give you.” He didn’t wait for a response, just started walking towards the classroom door, and Margaret followed, frowning, but not complaining. Keith should be waiting outside. Well, if all he has is something for me to read, I can get away quickly. If he starts talking about that again, I’ll tell him someone is waiting.

She walked into the office behind him, and he reached behind her and closed the door. Margaret swallowed nervously, but just said no thanks when he motioned for her to sit. “Professor, I … ” was all she got out before he interrupted her with a smile.

“Ms Hale, … um, do you mind if I call you Margaret? That wouldn’t bother you, would it? I find using ‘Ms’ with all of the women students to be a bit silly. First names are so much easier.” He smiled as she said it was all right. “Good. Margaret, I have several articles I’ve dug out for you that I think would be very helpful for you to read,” and he handed her a fat manila envelope. 

Margaret breathed a sigh of relief, she could go. “Thank you, Professor Lennox.”

But he moved around his desk to lean against it, folding his arms across his chest and smiling sympathetically. “Please don’t go yet, Margaret. I wanted to talk to you a bit, ask a few questions. How did it go yesterday? Is the first trial finished now?” he asked, emphasizing ‘first’.

Oh, no. Margaret bit her lower lip. “Professor, how did you know … yesterday, um, it’s over, I don’t have to go back. It wasn’t … he was just a child, doing what his father told him to. I felt sorry for him.” Margaret was trying hard to be polite and answer his question, but she decided she had to get away before he asked any more. “Professor, excuse me, but I have a friend waiting for me outside. I don’t want to keep him waiting, if you don’t mind.”

“Well, Margaret, I do mind actually, I need just a few minutes of your time. The mental health of my students is important to me, and I am worried about you. I guess I shouldn’t be, we don’t really know each other, but I can tell you are troubled and that brings out my paternal instincts. You really should be talking to someone about this. I mean, you’ve just told me you feel sorry for a man who brutalized you. Do you think that’s normal, Margaret?”

The question just hung there, Margaret not wanting to answer, not wanting to think that feeling sorry for Caleb meant she wasn’t normal. Why did he say that? He can’t be right. It’s sad what’s happening to Caleb. … He’s staring again.

He interrupted her thoughts, asking quietly, “Margaret, have you given any more thought to my offer of therapy?”

Margaret glanced nervously at the closed door. There was a window in it, but it was frosted glass, for privacy. “I uh, … well, I’ve been very busy, and uh, I … haven’t really … I really have to go now,” and Margaret took a small step back, towards the door.

“Well, I think you are in denial, Margaret. This is not doing you or your family and friends any good at all. Don’t the people who care for you deserve consideration? None of us should be so busy we don’t take care of ourselves, right?” and he smiled at her, waiting for her to agree with him.

And as he smiled, he leaned closer. Margaret’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth, not sure … 

Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door. “Professor Lennox?” He quickly leaned back against the desk and the door opened. 

Keith smiled broadly, “Oh, there you are, Margaret. We’re going to be late if you don’t come right now. Sorry, was I interrupting something?” he said as he looked innocently at Henry.

***

Margaret stood on the sidewalk outside the building, her eyes closed, unable to talk, trying to stop shaking, trying to return her breathing to normal. Keith stood with her, his arm around her shoulder, holding her hands, leaning his head close to hers, quietly pleading with her to talk to her uncle.

She opened her eyes at last, and the first thing she saw was John, standing on the sidewalk some distance away, staring at them, a look of shock on his face. Their eyes met briefly and John turned on his heel, quickly walking away.


	31. Please, Just Talk

Keith looked in the direction he saw Margaret staring and saw John walking away. “Margaret, do you want me to go after him, explain?” Keith took his arm away from Margaret and started down the sidewalk. 

“Keith, please don’t leave me. Please, I’m feeling better now, let’s just go. I don’t want to be standing here if he comes out.” Margaret took Keith’s arm and they walked to the coffee shop, where Keith spent an unsuccessful ten minutes trying to talk Margaret into dropping her psych class.

“Keith, I’m so far behind the other students already, it will only get worse if I start dropping the few classes I’m already taking. I’ll be getting my degree when I’m 40.” He saw the smallest smile when she said that. Well, she’s feeling a little better. But something has to be done. This is going to end in disaster if she stays in that class.

“Okay Margaret, for now, but there’s something else to talk about. You have to talk to John. He has the wrong idea about us. And I know you miss him, just the look on your face when you saw him told me that. Just talk to him. What do you have to lose?”

“I’ve been thinking about it, Keith, really. I mean, he’s my best friend’s brother, so I know I’m going to see him, I’ll have to talk to him. But he’s so angry with me, I don’t know how … .” She sighed and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. Now, really, enough of my problems. Tell me about that family party you want me to go to Friday night.”

Keith sighed, that was the best he was going to get today. As he talked about his older brother’s engagement party, and the pressure and snide comments he knew he would have to endure when he didn’t drink with them the way he usually did, he thought about what he could do to help Margaret with her problems. Hmm, maybe kill two birds with one stone?

***

John groaned when he looked at the bedside clock. He got up, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep again. He walked into the bathroom and stood at the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. Blue eyes surrounded by dark circles blinked blearily back at him. He couldn’t remember when he’d last had a good night’s sleep. His dreams were full of women - well, just two women really, Katherine and Margaret. 

Every night since they met again, he had dreamt of Katherine. The dream was always the same. It was a beautiful spring day, sunny, a gentle breeze lifting his hair from his forehead where it had fallen. He was walking alone through some trees when he emerged into the open. He saw her across a meadow filled with wildflowers, walking slowly, stooping to pick a blossom or two, humming to herself. Suddenly she looked up and saw him, and she waved and started to walk towards him, smiling. 

She looked gorgeous, dressed in a diaphanous white gown, her mahogany hair flowing down her back, her grey eyes fixed on him as she slowly came towards him, reaching out to him, her face and body full of promises, promises to him. And then as they came together, as he reached out to embrace her, she turned into mist, fading into absolutely nothing, and he walked right through the space she had just occupied. He always woke up then, startled out of sleep, breathing raggedly, disoriented.

But the other dream, the one with Margaret, that was worse. It started exactly the same way, but with Margaret standing in the meadow. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, she was so beautiful. She said nothing as they came together, but smiling shyly, reached her hand out to him. He took it in his, feeling her tremble at his touch, watching her smile grow wider, emotions swirling inside him. Then, without a word, he dropped her hand and looked all around them, as if looking for someone else. She tried to take his hand again, but he kept it away from her, searching the meadow with his eyes. Abruptly, he turned away from her and walked back to the trees, leaving her looking bewildered. Only one word was spoken between them. She said ‘why?’ but he had no answer. And as he left, he saw others standing among the trees, about to enter the meadow, shaking their heads at him. As he walked past them, he heard the whispers from Guy, from Keith, from others, fool, fool.

He stared at himself in the mirror. I have to talk to her. I was a fool, am a fool if I don’t at least try. But it may be too late, from what I saw of her with Keith. Keith! Of all people!

***

Fran called John Thursday morning and asked him to stop by the suite after his class. She had spoken to Hannah about the spring break getaway, and Hannah had told her she didn’t think it was a good idea if the young man she was dating seriously was also going. They had gone round and round the subject and Hannah had finally said, “Fran, the temptation is just too much. I would worry about you, I wouldn’t sleep a wink the whole week. And there are snakes out there, and you could get lost, and there are … Indians.”

“Mother! Indians?!!” Fran exclaimed in disbelief. “Mother, really, what’s the problem? Margaret and I will be sharing a room, not Fred and I.” As soon as she said that, she regretted it, it just brought the unwanted images to the fore in her mother’s mind. “Uncle Adam will be there, it will all be perfectly proper. Fred and I aren’t ready for sex yet.” Another mistake. Hannah paled at that comment, and told Fran flatly that the trip was out of the question. 

This afternoon it was John’s turn. Fran explained that she needed help, telling him about the invitation. “John, I really, really want to go. I’ve never been out west, and I want to spend a week with Fred, and Margaret and Uncle Adam of course.” 

Fran saw John look away when she mentioned Margaret. “What, didn’t you talk to Margaret yet? John, I haven’t had a chance to talk to her myself since she got back. She texted me, so I knew she was back, but I haven’t seen her since the weekend. I don’t think she’s actually been back to the suite yet. She must have stayed with Uncle Adam the last two nights.”

“I saw her Tuesday after her class, with Keith. He had his arm around her, they were … it was very intimate, Fran. I didn’t stop to speak with her. She didn’t answer my phone calls. I’ve tried so many times, I didn’t bother leaving a message. It’s over, Fran. She’s seeing someone else, I … I have to respect that.” John sighed. “Enough of my feeling sorry for myself. This is my own fault. Let’s get your holiday straightened out.”

“Stop. John, you are so smart about so much, how can you get this all wrong about Margaret? You have to talk to her, don’t make assumptions about Keith. Remember the assumption we all made about Fred?” She saw John smile when she said that. “I know it’s not what you think, so just talk to her, will you?” John sighed, but said nothing. “John, you have to promise me, I’m tired of the two of you being so miserable and it’s only because you won’t talk. So, promise me, right now.” Fran stood, arms crossed, waiting, and John agreed he would try to talk to Margaret. 

Fran heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Okay, now please talk to mother so I can go on holiday with Margaret and Fred? You’ll be my favorite brother if you do this,” she grinned and hugged him.

John smiled and nodded his head, unable to laugh. Fran can see Margaret, can talk to her, can go on holiday with her, I can’t. What is there to laugh about? God, I am a miserable mess, aren’t I? I will talk to her, I will do it. She’s right, I was wrong about Fred. I can’t see straight any more, maybe I’ve got this all wrong. Maybe ... .

John had spent the last half hour convincing Hannah that Fran’s independence was coming, whether Hannah liked it or not, and it was a good thing. “Mother, Fran is 19 now, and finished with a full semester of college. You see her as your baby, and I certainly see her as my baby sister. But we have to be fair to Fran. She isn’t a baby, she’s a grown woman and she’s entitled to a love life. I know, I know, you don’t want to think about that. But I promise you I’ve had a lot of talks with her, since elementary school actually, about boys, men, and sex.” 

John laughed at the face that Hannah pulled when he said that. “Stop grimacing Mother, I think we both know where Fran and I came from, so sex can be a good thing, right?” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and heaved an exasperated sigh. “All right, all right, I won’t mention the ‘s’ word again, but, Fran is careful, she’s responsible, and she’ll be well chaperoned with Adam Bell there. Fred is as good a young man as you’ll find, and I trust him, so we’ll let her go on the trip, won’t we?” 

“I would feel better if you were going with her, John,” said Hannah.

“Well, I know you would, but I haven’t been invited, have I? I can’t crash their holiday, mother.” Hannah rolled her eyes again, but he knew she would give her permission. He laughed for the first time in days at Fran’s squeal of delight when he called her and told her she would be able to go.

***

“Margaret, where have you been? I thought you got back on Tuesday,” Fran said as Margaret walked into the suite and took her book bag off her shoulder with a sigh. “How did everything go at the trial? Was it scary?”

Margaret slumped onto the sofa. She’d spent the last two nights at Adam’s, principally because he wanted to talk to her about the trial. But she had also wanted to talk to him about her classes, without actually telling him about the trouble with her psych class. Margaret had already asked about the deadline for switching courses. She was disappointed but not surprised to hear that the deadline had passed. But there was a window of another ten days for her to switch to another intro psych class, on condition that she had the written approval of both professors. 

“Uncle Adam, I was wondering about maybe … well, I might want to change one of my classes.” She saw Adam look at her in surprise.

“Are you having a problem with one of your professors, Margaret? Which class?” he said, frowning. He knew it couldn’t be the course work itself, Margaret was too smart not to be able to handle any classwork she was taking.

“No, no, no problem. I just thought maybe … um, a change of day, so I didn’t have any classes on Tuesdays. Do you know Professor Slickson? I would have to get his approval to switch, of course.” Margaret tried to sound nonchalant, hoping he wouldn’t pick up any distress in her questioning.

Adam thought before answering. Psychology, that means something isn’t right in Lennox’s class. That uneasy feeling I had about him, was I right? “Well, I do know him, he’s a bit of a stickler for the rules, he doesn’t really like changes in his classes, but perhaps if I talked to him, told him a good reason, the real reason, Margaret,” he said, raising one eyebrow when he looked at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now? Psych class? Something’s wrong, isn’t there?”

Margaret had blushed and just shook her head. She had deliberately waited to talk to Adam this morning, starting the conversation at the same time she should have been on her way to class. This was the first time she had ever missed a class deliberately, and she felt guilty. But she couldn’t face Professor Lennox yet, if ever again. “I really wasn’t feeling up to class today, Uncle Adam,” she said quietly. “Don’t worry, I’m fine, but I’m going back to the suite for a bit of a break. I’ll see you over the weekend, okay?” and she stood and kissed his cheek and left.

Margaret thought back to those two days in Pennsylvania. “Oh, Fran, the trial was … I was scared and then it was over and I was so relieved. I don’t know what’s going to happen to Caleb. I feel sorry for him, he’s just a child.” She frowned, biting her lower lip. “Do you think my feeling that way is … abnormal?” she asked Fran.

“Well, I think most people would be angry and lots of people might hate him, Margaret. But you’re not like that, you always give people more chances, no matter what. I wish sometimes I could be more like you that way. So, unusual would be the word I’d choose, definitely not abnormal. But why would you think that?”

“Professor Lennox said it was,” she said, her voice faltering.

“Margaret, did that creep talk to you again? Did you tell Uncle Adam? Is that why you stayed home for the last two nights?” Fran took Margaret’s hand. “John told me he saw you after class with Keith and Keith had his arms around you. So, he rescued you from the clutches of that creep, right?” Margaret just nodded her head, her eyes swimming with tears as she remembered that last encounter.

“Margaret, you have to talk to John. He was here on Sunday, and he’s tried calling you so many times. He knows he made a mistake when he … ” Fran bit her lip, she almost said ‘dumped you’. “He’s absolutely miserable, not that he doesn’t deserve to be, the way he treated you,” she scowled, “but please talk to him, Margaret. You miss each other and you’re both miserable, and that makes the rest of us miserable, because we care about you. He’s promised me he’ll talk to you, now I need your promise that you’ll talk to him.” Margaret slowly nodded her head. “Not good enough. Say it out loud so we both believe it.”

Margaret sighed and laughed at Fran’s persistence. “I promise, Fran. But … ”

“No buts, just do it.”

***

John opened his apartment door Thursday evening to a surprise visitor. He stepped back, pulled himself to his full height and looked down his nose with icy eyes. “Keith. Why are you here?”

“May I come in, just for a few minutes, John? I need to say a few things to you, then I’ll leave.”

John hesitated, then stepped aside for Keith to walk by him into the apartment. They had not spoken since the night at the art gallery, and Keith was nervous. Nervous, but determined. He had come straight from dropping Margaret off after her swim lesson. He noticed John didn’t ask him to sit, so he just started talking.

“John, I’m here to apologize for all the stupid, pathetic things I’ve done and said when in your company. You tried to be a friend, and I was too …” He stopped and sighed. John just stared, arms folded across his chest. He wasn’t going to make this any easier for him. “I’m an alcoholic and I took advantage, of everyone, I acted in an outrageous manner and used the alcohol as an excuse for as long as I can remember now. I’m sorry. If you can’t forgive me for what I’ve done, I’ll understand. But thank you for listening to me.” 

“Are you finished? Because I really would prefer if you left now,” John said quietly.

Keith took a deep breath, and didn’t move from where he was standing. “No, I’m not finished. We have to talk about something else. I’m sure you know I’ve apologized to Margaret.” He shook his head as John turned away from him when he mentioned Margaret. “I saw you on Tuesday, after Margaret’s class. John, you’ve got it completely wrong. Margaret and I are friends, nothing more.” John just refolded his arms and shook his head, dismissing what he was hearing. 

“John, when you saw us, Margaret was really upset and I was trying to convince her to talk to Adam Bell, but she refused. I can’t go behind her back to him, Margaret trusts me not to do that, I can’t let her down. But John, will you talk to her? Please? She can’t stay in that class, the guy’s a predator.”

John turned quickly. “Lennox?” he growled.

“You know about him?” Keith said, surprised at the anger in John’s voice. “I didn’t think Margaret told anyone … oh, Fran.”

“What did he do? If he touched her … ” John’s hands clenched and his mouth set in a grim line.

“No, no. I asked her, she said no. But he’s kept her after class again. I found her in his office, the door was closed and she was … well, frightened enough to be shaking when I got her out of there. I’ve begged her to talk to Adam, but she won’t, and I’ve told her to drop the class, but she’s afraid she’ll fall further behind. John, she doesn’t know how to deal with this kind of guy.” He saw John’s look. “I know, I know. Forget what a jerk I am for a minute, will you, and focus on Margaret. She needs our help. Will you talk to her?”

“Yes. I’ve already promised Fran, I’m going to try to see her this weekend.”

“Good. Two more things and I’ll leave. First, she skipped class today.” Keith saw the surprised look on John’s face. “Right, that’s how much this guy has spooked her. She doesn’t have that class again until Tuesday, so... . Second, he gave her something, I don’t know what it was, in a large manila envelope. She just kept staring at it, and she finally just put it in her book bag. I don’t know if she ever opened it. Somebody should know what’s in that envelope, John.” Keith shifted, wondering if there was anything left to say, and deciding there wasn’t, he walked to the door.

As John opened the door, he stuck out his hand. “Thank you, for helping Margaret. And, I hope … well, I hope things go well for you.” They shook hands and Keith left.

***

“Margaret, this is ridiculous. They’ve already done the toasts, I’ve already spoken privately with my brother, let’s get out of here,” Keith whispered to Margaret. They had been at his parents’ house for just an hour, and his family had been polite, but they were both uncomfortable. Margaret knew Keith told them they were just good friends, but she had fielded more questions than she could count about how long they’d been a ‘couple’ and how soon they’d be engaged. No one seemed to believe her answers.

And Keith was tired of turning down glasses of champagne, glasses of scotch, bottles of beer, offered non-stop by his father. His father had insisted that Keith’s toast had to be done with more than tonic water. But Trent understood, and he and Samantha stood together, both holding tonic water as Keith wished them a long and happy life together. Margaret was proud of him, and he knew it, but he couldn’t stand being surrounded by the drinking any longer. They said their good nights and left for Margaret’s apartment, which Keith had never seen.

John was driving home from the office, having convinced himself he had nothing better to do with his time anymore than just work. After his talks with Fran and Keith the day before, he had phoned Katherine and begged off dinner, saying he had urgent commitments he had to see to. There was no way he would be able to control himself if he had to sit across a table from Henry Lennox.

As he sat at the traffic light one block from his apartment building, he looked up to the fifth floor and saw lights on in Margaret’s apartment. What is she doing here? Now. Now is the time to talk to her. What if she’s with someone? Don’t think of all the reasons you shouldn’t, just do it. Now!

Margaret heard the knock at the door, and wondered why whoever it was hadn’t rung from the foyer to get inside. She was just showing Keith the apartment and told him to go ahead and check out the bedroom and bathroom himself, she would be right back. She went to the door and looked through the peephole and stepped back, shocked. John! What is he doing here? Oh, no, Keith … 

Margaret took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. “Good evening, John.” If he expected anything more, he didn’t get it. He stepped in as she stepped aside.

Margaret just stood staring at him, her eyes wide. As gorgeous as ever. That lovely stubble. But he looks so tired. Margaret resisted the urge to reach her hand out to his face; she swallowed, she could feel herself starting to tear up, just seeing him so close after so long, but she just blinked and waited, consciously trying to keep her breathing under control. And then ...

“Margaret, that shower is fantastic … ” Keith’s voice trailed off as he walked into the living room and saw John standing at the front door.

Margaret saw the emotions crossing John’s face in rapid succession as he stared at Keith, from surprise to disbelief to disappointment to anger. He looked quickly at her and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking, then he turned and reached for the door handle. He hesitated, standing there with his back to her, one hand on the door, shaking his head from side to side. He took a deep breath, and then he spoke so quietly Margaret almost couldn’t hear him though she was standing just a foot away. “Margaret, please, can we talk?”

He closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as he felt her small hand slip into his large one.


	32. I'm Sorry

Relief flooded over John when he felt Margaret’s hand in his. She didn’t say anything, she just turned and walked into the living room, and John followed her. Keith smiled and kissed Margaret on the cheek. He whispered to her to talk to John, then, telling her he would see her on Sunday, he left.

John had watched their exchange, the friendly kiss, the whispering, the smiles. “Why are you seeing Keith on Sunday?” he asked, trying but failing to hide the scowl. 

“He’s teaching me to swim,” Margaret said quietly. She saw his look of disbelief, and just shook her head. She wasn’t going to discuss it with him.

John looked around the apartment. It had been more than a month since he’d been here, in this living room, telling Margaret why he would be taking her home, apologizing for rushing her, for getting carried away in her bedroom. It looked the same, but it wasn’t, not really. He felt like a stranger here, and it was all his own doing. 

How are you going to get back to where you were before you screwed up? Will she let you back in her life? He took a deep breath and finally turned to take a good look at her, and he smiled. The green sweater. She looks beautiful. And then he frowned. For Keith, she wore it for him. Where were they tonight? Were they having an intimate evening here? Don’t John. Just stop it, they’re friends. Until she tells you otherwise, they’re just friends. And then, a small smile. He’s not here now, you are, this is your chance, so, start to redeem yourself.

Margaret was trying hard not to stare at him, pushing down the desire to reach out after not seeing him for so long. She was too nervous to sit, so she stood behind a chair, giving herself some distance from him, from his broad shoulders, from his stubbled jaw, from his tired face that she wanted to soothe with her hands. We have to talk, this has to stop, even if … He’s angry, he doesn’t want me seeing Keith and tonight just reminded him.

“Keith’s my friend, John, and he’s helped me a lot in the past three weeks, ever since we ... well, talked things through. I know you’re angry about me being friends with him, but he really didn’t mean what happened at the art gallery, it wasn’t his fault.” Margaret saw John roll his eyes and start to say something and she cut him off. “No, don’t. You … you don’t get to tell me who my friends are. You … you aren’t my brother.” He heard the small note of defiance in her voice and raised his eyebrows, as a small smile formed on his lips.

“Margaret, the man assaulted you the first time he met you, who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t come when I did. I understand he has been nice to you since that night, but how can you say it wasn’t his fault?” he asked, shaking his head.

“It was the alcohol, and he doesn’t drink anymore. He’s trying very hard and I admire that.” Margaret stared fiercely at John. “He’s my friend, whether you like it or not.”

John sighed, holding up his hands in defense. “Margaret, I didn’t come here to argue with you. I’m not angry that you’re friends with Keith, I thought the wrong thing when I saw you together. I thought … Margaret, are you dating Keith?” he asked hesitantly.

“No,” she said quietly, “we’re just friends. I’m not dating anyone, John,” and he didn’t miss the sarcastic note in her voice.

“Margaret, … ” John took a step towards her and saw her move away, keeping a chair between them.

“Your girlfriend is beautiful, John,” she said quietly, biting her lip again. She had seen him move, and knew she had to keep her distance; she had too many questions, too many things she had to find out before she got too close to him.

“Margaret, Katherine is not my girlfriend. The day you saw us, that was the first time I’d seen her in almost four years. It was a complete surprise to me to see her on campus, and we went for coffee to catch up. And I haven’t seen her since that day. I did talk to her on the phone twice, yes, but that’s it.” 

So, her name is Katherine. “You were … it looked very friendly, the hand holding.”

“Margaret, we weren’t holding hands, she kept reaching across the table and covering my hand with hers, I don’t know why, maybe just the … I don’t know, excitement in finding a friend unexpectedly after so many years. But it wasn’t hand holding, I never reached for her hand, Margaret.” She could see the plea for understanding in his eyes, but something wasn’t right, there was more, and she needed to know.

“So, you were just friends … before?”

John took a deep breath. So, this is it, tell her who Katherine is … was. John turned to look out the window. “No, not just friends. I thought I was in love with her when we were in college together.” He turned to look at Margaret. She didn’t move, just stared as he talked; he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. 

“I thought I wanted to marry her, but I didn’t realize she didn’t want me that way. We … ” he hesitated, knowing Margaret would take what he might say the wrong way. Would Margaret understand if I tell her Katherine and I were lovers? Would she think that was why I turned away from her, that she and I hadn’t … done anything? I can’t tell her that yet, I have to tell her other things first. “I had hopes that she didn’t share and then she just disappeared. She got married while she was on spring break, and never came back to Mills until now. So, she’s a married woman, Margaret. Definitely not my girlfriend.”

Margaret stared at him as he talked, then he saw a small frown, and she turned to the window, staring out but not seeing. Eventually, she spoke. “But you loved her. You wanted to marry her. She was a very special woman to you, and she’s back.” Margaret said it quietly, not looking at him, seeming almost to be thinking out loud. “Just because she left doesn’t make her less special to you,” she said. That’s why. He has someone special, someone he still loves, even though he can’t have her, like Uncle Adam. He never stopped loving Mother. She blinked back the tears, then looked over at him and said, “So, that’s why. You’re still in love with her.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement.

“No. No, Margaret, absolutely not. The time we spent together the other day, it was like I was seeing her for the first time, or maybe,” he sighed heavily, “maybe I was actually realizing what our relationship had really been like, that I had deluded myself completely, something I had been unable to admit to myself. She didn’t remember anything important about me, she was surprised at my having stayed close to my family, she still laughed at what I do. Nothing I was doing was important to her, I’m not sure she even listened to anything I said the other day. All she talked about was money and prestige, and she didn’t sound happy at all. I couldn’t believe that I had felt so strongly for her, I don’t think I even like her now.”

“I had this image of her, of us, that was so wrong, Margaret. I had only remembered the good things from our relationship, I had forgotten the other. I remembered what I felt for her and when she left, how painful that was, but I realized that meant nothing to her. She had never looked back. What I felt for her, whatever it was, it’s gone, completely gone.” 

***

They had stopped talking, both of them just staring out the windows, both of them lost in thought. John hoped Margaret believed he no longer cared for Katherine, that he wasn’t angry about Keith, that he was here because he wanted to see her. But he knew there was more to talk about, and there was something gnawing at her, he could see it in her eyes.

“What did I do wrong?” she whispered, her eyes bright.

“What do you mean? You haven’t done anything wrong, Margaret.”

“I thought you liked me, that we were … that maybe I could be special to you, but you left. I don’t understand, I don’t know the rules, what you expected of me. I need to know what I did wrong.”

“Margaret, don’t think that way. You did nothing wrong. It was me, it was all me.” He stepped toward her and she turned away from him, and he heard her say something so quietly he couldn’t hear it. “What? Margaret, what did you say?”

“Edith said boys always say that when they don’t like you anymore, it’s them, not you. You think it will make me feel better, but it doesn’t, not at all. I don’t know what I did, I need to know. Is it because … ”

John interrupted her. “Margaret, please, … ”

“No, no, please. I have to know, John. Please just be honest with me.”

“Margaret, don’t. It was me, not you. I was … ” He stopped. He took a deep breath, and turned away from her. Tell her the rest. 

“When I was younger, I had a plan for my life, how my career would go, my personal life. I had felt responsible for my mother and Fran for a very long time, and I imagined myself getting married, having children, looking after them, never leaving them. I was looking for a serious relationship, someone I could care for, who would care for me, and I thought I’d found it with Katherine. I was wrong, but I didn’t know it at the time.”

He dropped his head and sighed. “When she left, I was devastated. I was depressed for months, wondering what was wrong with me that she’d left so suddenly, without a word to me, when I’d hoped she loved me. And I knew I never wanted to go through that again, never wanted to get hurt again like that, be so terribly wrong about how someone else felt about me.” John turned to look at Margaret and she saw the anguish in his face and steeled herself to listen to the rest, to not go to him and take him in her arms.

“I was completely shaken when after just three dates, I found myself … so serious about you.” Coward. You love her, why can’t you say it. “My head told me it was too soon, that you were too young, too inexperienced, that I must have gotten it wrong, again. I know, I knew it was a mistake, Margaret, but I was scared. I didn’t want to go through that again, I couldn’t bear to feel that pain again. And so, I ran away from the best thing that’s ever happened to me - you.”

“I knew, I just knew so fast that I was in trouble with you. That our relationship wouldn’t stay simple, that we wouldn’t be dating casually. You’re not that kind of woman, are you?” he said with a smile. 

“No, John, I’m not. When I find the right person, I won’t leave,” she said quietly. He saw her hands gripping the back of the chair she was standing in front of, holding on so she wouldn’t go to him, waiting. John knew he would be the one who had to make the next move. He had broken them, he would have to fix them. If that was what he wanted.

John walked over to stand in front of Margaret, taking her by the shoulders and looking into her eyes. She felt her heart beating faster and faster as those blue eyes roamed her face. He put his hand to her face, his fingers splayed from her temple to below her ear, reminding her of the night he first kissed her. 

“Margaret, can you forgive me for being such a fool?” He leaned down and kissed her tenderly, and his heart sighed as he felt her response. He wrapped his arms around her as she breathed his name and rested her head against his broad chest.

***

“Tell me about Lennox, Margaret,” John said quietly, kissing the top of her head. He could feel her tense, and heard and felt the deep breath she took. “Tell me what’s happened. Fran is worried, Keith too, so I know he’s scared you. Tell me, please.”

Margaret slowly, haltingly told him about the two talks after class, how she tried to tell the teacher she didn’t want to talk about the abduction, how he stared and stared for so long, how she felt the moment before Keith found her behind that closed door, not knowing exactly what was going to happen when the professor leaned towards her. And how she worried when he told her she had issues she needed to talk about, that she needed to be in therapy, that she was being inconsiderate of her family and friends, that her feelings weren’t normal. She was trembling by the time she finished telling him, and he held her and whispered soft, calming noises, keeping his temper in check as he seethed about this man.

“John, I’m not sure why he talked to me again after I told him I didn’t want to talk about it. Keith said I should drop the class, but I can’t. I can’t get farther behind, everyone takes more classes than I do already. I’m going to try to switch classes to Professor Slickson’s class, but … ” She took a deep breath. “I have to get Professor Lennox’s permission to switch, so I’ll have to talk to him again, and I, I don’t know if he’ll let me change classes,” she said quietly. She looked up at him and he saw the confusion and the threatening tears, and he hugged her closer.

“Have you spoken to Adam? What did he say?” He thought he knew the answer already. Adam would have done something if he had heard about this, and he didn’t think Adam would have kept it private either. He would have gone to the administration. Adam was quiet, he didn’t go on about his personal life as some faculty members did, but John knew he felt a deep sense of responsibility for Margaret, and had a keen awareness of her vulnerability due to her isolated upbringing. Adam would be fierce about anyone trying to take advantage of that. 

“I talked to him yesterday about changing classes and he wanted to know what was wrong. I couldn’t tell him, I don’t want to get Professor Lennox in trouble,” she said quietly. “If I’m just overreacting and he’s trying to help me, that wouldn’t be right.”

“Margaret!” he said more sharply than he intended. “You can be very exasperating sometimes. Look at me.” John moved so that he could look at her directly. “You are not overreacting when a teacher talks about personal things and it upsets you, and then he does it again. And he shouldn’t have you in his office with the door closed either. Your instincts are screaming at you, telling you this is all wrong, and you’re ignoring them, trying to think up excuses for him. Stop. Just listen to yourself, you know it’s wrong.“

John watched her, as the realization came into her eyes, the acceptance of her instinct that this trusted person was deliberately doing the wrong thing. “Why me? Am I that, do I look like I would want … ?” 

“Margaret, I don’t know why he picked you, but perhaps it was because so much information about you was in the papers. Maybe he thought … I don’t know, Margaret, but it doesn’t really matter why. You simply cannot stay in that class any longer, you do realize that now, don’t you?” He sighed in relief as she slowly nodded.

“Keith said he gave you something. What was it?”

“He said it was something for me to read, that it would be helpful.”

“And? What was it?”

She looked away. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to open it. It’s still in the envelope at the suite. I thought about throwing it away, but I know he’ll ask me about it. John,” she looked up, “would you look at it first?”

“Of course I will. And we’ll get the paperwork for you to switch classes, and I’ll go with you, or Adam will, to get the signatures you need. You’re not going to another class with him, Margaret, don’t even think about going on Tuesday.” He heard the small sigh, the relief behind it, and saw the small smile before she wrapped her arms around him again and leaned into his chest. 

***

“Margaret, I should go. It’s late; are you staying here tonight, or do you want me to take you back to the suite?” In spite of his words, John didn’t move at all. His eyes were closed, his cheek against Margaret’s hair, his arms wrapped around her, both of them sitting on her sofa.

“Don’t move or I’ll hurt you!” She giggled; she’d attempted a John Thornton growl and missed completely. “Please, can’t we just stay here, I’m comfortable, and you’ve been away so long, John,” she said, snuggling closer to him, closing her eyes, yawning.

***

Margaret woke up to morning sunshine, and found herself in her own bed, fully clothed with a comforter on top of her. She certainly didn’t remember going to bed. The last thing she remembered was snuggling as close as she could get to John on her sofa. John! Where is he? He left me again? As Margaret bolted upright, the door opened, and she saw him in the doorway, smiling at her.

“Awake at last, sleepy head. I’ve already made tea. How did you sleep?” he said as he walked over and kissed her on top of her head.


	33. Changing Course; Vacation Plans

Fran hugged Margaret when she and John walked into the suite that morning, and winked at her brother. At last! These two have been making me crazy. Ooh, I wonder about spring break, did Margaret already ask Guy? Better ask her in private.

“Morning, Fran. Margaret?” John just raised his eyebrows, looking at her. Margaret turned and went into her room and reached into her bookbag, taking out a large, unopened manila envelope. She walked out and handed it to John.

“What’s that?” asked Fran. 

“I don’t know what’s in it. Professor Lennox gave it to me after class, but I didn’t want to open it,” Margaret said quietly. Fran grimaced at the mention of his name.

John sat on the sofa and started to read what looked like summaries of published papers. His face got darker and he frowned deeper as he moved from paper to paper. He stood abruptly, stuffing the papers back in the envelope. “Margaret, I have to talk to Adam about you leaving that class. So, I’ll pick you and Fran up for lunch tomorrow at my mother’s, okay?”

“John, what … what was in the envelope?” 

“Articles about people who were kidnapped. I’m sure you don’t want to read that kind of stuff, Margaret, so I’m taking it, and Adam and I will get rid of it, okay? Don’t worry about it anymore.” Margaret put her hand on his arm and stopped him from leaving. A few minutes later, Margaret said she had heard enough. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Margaret nodded yes. “I’ll see you tomorrow around noon, okay?” John reached down, smiling, and stroked a single finger across Margaret’s lips, then brushed his lips across hers, barely touching. He heard her little sigh, he smiled, then turned and left.

***

Adam was surprised to open the door and find John standing there. In the last month they had seen each other only between classes. Adam knew there had been some kind of break between Margaret and John. She hadn’t told him what had happened, but Fred had said John just stopped seeing Margaret after three dates, offering no explanation. Now John stood at the door, saying they needed to talk.

John stepped inside and Adam invited him to take off his coat and join him in the library. He noticed he was holding a large envelope. John skipped any small talk, he told Adam right away that one of Margaret’s professors was acting inappropriately, had scared her, and she needed to switch classes right away. Adam immediately said, “Lennox?” and shook his head when John said yes. 

John quickly told Adam all he’d learned, plus his own observations of Lennox at the faculty meet and greet. “For what it’s worth, Adam, I had a distinctly uneasy feeling about him. He barely looked at me, he spent all of his time watching the women in the room. Now, well, I’ve told Margaret she can’t go back to that class. I’m sure you’ll agree. But she needs signatures to switch.”

“That won’t be a problem, John, I’ll get them. Larry Slickson will sign the form if I ask, no questions asked. I’ll get Lennox’s signature myself. But, why didn’t Margaret tell me? I knew something was wrong when she didn’t go to class Thursday, but she wouldn’t say what.”

“She said she didn’t want to get him into trouble. She felt something was wrong, but she didn’t trust her instincts at all, she thought she was overreacting. She told Fran and Keith, and Keith interrupted something on Tuesday in Lennox’s office. He said Margaret was shaking so hard she couldn’t talk. But Adam, you know Margaret. She believes everyone has good intentions; she gives everyone second chances, and he’s a teacher … she has no clue about someone like this.” He knew Adam would take this as seriously as he did, he just didn’t know if it would go any further than Margaret switching classes.

“Adam, I don’t think she’s willing to bring a complaint. I’ve already spoken to her and she said no. Perhaps if you speak to her. You know, I could be wrong, but this might explain why he’s in his third teaching position in five years.” John raised his eyebrows. He knew that universities sometimes gave positive recommendations for teachers they wanted to get rid of, the threat of lawsuits keeping them from revealing any problems.

“And, I want you to look at this,” John said, as he handed Adam the large manila envelope. “Lennox gave this to Margaret after class Tuesday, telling her he thought she should read it. She asked me to open it, she was afraid to do it herself. Take a look.”

He saw Adam pale as he quickly looked through the summaries of the articles. “Margaret hasn’t seen these, has she?”

“Well, no, but she does know the general content. Adam, she asked me, she said she wanted to see them.” He sighed. “I thought, I don’t know, the way she was brought up, shielded from absolutely everything. She’s an adult, much as we all want to protect her. … Anyway, I asked if I could simply tell her what was in them, rather than have her read them herself, and she agreed to that. She was shocked, but she didn’t say anything else.” 

John hesitated for a moment, then said, “Adam, Margaret never said a word to me about what happened to her when … those three days. I’ve never asked, I figured she’d tell me if and when she wanted me to know. I know about the fall and her being punched because you told me, but … ” John didn’t know what else to say. The articles Lennox had copied for Margaret to read were about young women and men who had been kidnapped, and every one of the papers discussed sexual abuse. “I can’t believe she would have talked to Lennox about this,” he said quietly.

“Of course she wouldn’t. John, it never happened, Margaret was punched and isolated, but not … this. I don’t know what he’s up to, trying to provoke her, maybe tell her she’s in denial if she says it didn’t happen. I don’t know, I can’t imagine thinking this way, so I just don’t know.” He took a deep breath, shaking his head. 

“So, this is Mills’ latest tenured professor,” he said in disgust. “John, Margaret will be in Slickson’s class as of Monday. As to what else we can do, I’m not sure. I will talk to the dean, but, I don’t know. This is probably not enough to oust him, particularly if Margaret doesn’t want to file a harassment complaint.”

***

“So, Margaret, tell me about the trip you have planned. I know Fran is pretty excited about it.” Hannah had just brought in dessert, John’s favorite, chocolate mousse. The dinner had gone smoothly, considering the surprise for Hannah and Belle when it became obvious from the looks and smiles between them that Margaret was the woman John had been dating. But they were both very relieved to see John happy again. If Margaret made him happy, good.

Margaret looked at Fran and they both grinned. “Mrs. Thornton, thank you for letting Fran come on the trip with us. We’re going to Arizona and Utah. My Uncle Adam took Fred there when he was just four years old and wanted to go back. We’re hiring a van because there will be five of us and we’ll need the space for all the luggage.” She saw from the corner of her eye John’s surprise that it was to be a party of five. 

Five of them? They asked someone else while I wasn’t seeing Margaret. Damn. Edith? Better not be Guy … or worse, Keith! John opened his mouth to ask who else was going, but Margaret continued talking.

“The itinerary isn’t firm, but we’re hoping to see the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Bryce Canyon, Zion. I think that’s all that’s planned, Uncle Adam didn’t want to do so much that we don’t have time to enjoy what we see, and we have just a week. I’ve never been anywhere, so it will all be new to me,” she smiled. “Mrs. Sullivan, you probably did a lot of traveling when your husband was in the military.”

“Oh, yes, Margaret. Andrew was stationed in so many places, mostly overseas, we moved about every two years. The farmhouse in Pennsylvania was the first time we were in one place for so long. We did live in California and Texas for some time. I loved the former, definitely not the latter. Too hot, too humid, too … Texas.” Belle paused, looking at John. She had seen the look of surprise on his face when Margaret told them the number of travelers on the upcoming trip. But she hadn’t missed the looks between Fran and Margaret, they were up to something. “And who is the fifth person on your trip, dear?”

Margaret and Fran both tried to hide their grins, unsuccessfully. “Uncle Adam said we could invite another person to go with us, so … last weekend I asked Guy if he wanted to come.” Margaret didn’t say anything else, she simply concentrated on eating her dessert, not looking at John. No one said anything; Belle and Hannah had their own thoughts as to how John was taking this news, watching him frowning and shaking his head. Margaret finished her dessert, and as she replaced the spoon, she said, “But Guy can’t come with us.”

John’s head snapped up at that comment. He saw the grins on Fran and Margaret’s faces, and he just shook his head. Mean. Just plain mean. Not that you don’t deserve it, but … 

John took a deep breath. “So, have you invited the fifth person yet, or are you just making him suffer first?” Fran and Margaret laughed.

***

Margaret had just finished her first class with Professor Slickson, and she was grinning as she walked through the hallway towards Uncle Adam’s office. She hadn’t realized how anxious and tense her other class had made her until the last hour. She had been so at ease in class that she had even volunteered answers to two questions, something she would never have done in Professor Lennox’s class.

As Margaret turned a corner, her face fell. Professor Lennox was walking toward her with a frown on his face. “Margaret, Ms Hale, I would like to speak with you, please. Come into my office.”

“I’m sorry, professor, but my uncle is expecting me. I can’t speak with you now.” Margaret turned to walk away.

“I insist, Ms Hale. Now,” he said, grabbing her elbow tightly and steering her into his office. He shut the door quickly and turned around, placing himself between Margaret and the door. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared, frowning, not saying a word.

Margaret blinked twice, then shook her head and looked up at him. “Professor, I’m not in your class anymore. I … I don’t want to talk to you. Please let me leave now.” Margaret stepped forward, expecting him to step aside, but he didn’t move, and she quickly stepped back again. 

“Ms Hale, I had a visit yesterday from your ‘uncle’. He was under the impression that something improper had happened between us, which I denied of course, because it isn’t true. I can only assume you’ve been so traumatized by the events of the past eight months that you misinterpreted my attempts to help you. Naturally, I signed the form, but I wondered, as you are an adult, why your so called uncle had to bring it to me.” He paused, then laughed humorlessly. “I’ll bet that’s a relationship that would be an analyst’s dream. How long have you been living with him and his son?”

Something in his voice, in the way he emphasized ‘living with’ startled Margaret. She stared at him, then flushed deeply, suddenly understanding what he was implying. “You … you … . Let me out of this office this minute, and don’t you ever touch me again!” she said fiercely. She saw the look of surprise on his smooth face and took her chance, moving past him quickly to the door and hurrying into the hall.

***

“Margaret, there’s something I didn’t tell you when we talked last Friday night.” John and Margaret were sitting in her apartment, having coffee after dinner out. He had just gotten a call on his cell phone, which he hadn’t answered after he saw who was calling, and Margaret looked at him questioningly.

“I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, but there was so much to say that night.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “That was Katherine calling. Remember I told you I had spoken with her on the phone? Well, she had asked me to dinner to meet her husband ... socially. And asked me to bring my girlfriend.” He grinned and blushed when he said that, and Margaret smiled at the thought of being John’s girlfriend. “It was supposed to be last weekend and I canceled. I guess that’s why she called again, to reschedule. But I’m not going, I can’t.”

Margaret reached across the table to cover John’s hand. “John, you should go. She was a friend, don’t not go because of me. You said she’s unhappy, perhaps getting together with old friends will help her.”

“Margaret,” John took a deep breath. “She’s married to Henry Lennox.” He saw Margaret’s mouth open in surprise, her eyes widen, and then she just slowly shook her head back and forth.

“But … well … maybe that’s why she’s unhappy, she made a mistake marrying him and … ” Her voice trailed off as she looked at John. Who would want Professor Lennox when they could have John? She came back and saw what she gave up. Now she calls. And wants to meet me? I can’t. I talked to him for the last time Wednesday.

“John, please go to dinner with them if you want. I don’t mind, really, but I won’t go. I had my last meeting with Professor Lennox this week.” She hesitated, wondering if she should tell him. No, no secrets. “He grabbed my arm and made me go into his office.”

“What?! He touched you? He forced you into his office?” John’s voice rose. He stood and pulled her to her feet, holding her by her upper arms, looking her up and down, as if examining her for injuries. “I cannot believe this guy. Margaret, I’m bringing a complaint against him, I don’t care what you say. Why didn’t you tell me, or Adam? The man is … Are you sure you’re all right?”

“John, I’m fine. Please, I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to do anything or because I was still upset. I told you because, well, I wanted you to know that I don’t think he’ll ever talk to me again. He said something nasty about … about me and Uncle Adam, and I got angry, which really surprised him. I don’t think he thought I would say anything back to him, but I did.” She shivered involuntarily, closing her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore, John. Let’s talk about something else.”

They walked into the living room. John decided he would tell Adam of the latest encounter between Lennox and Margaret. He wanted Adam and Fred to be aware that the man was still harassing Margaret, who knew what else might happen. No, I definitely won’t go to dinner with Katherine and him, I wouldn’t be able to be civil to him. Katherine must know what he’s up to, this must have happened elsewhere. How can she stay with him?… Well, money and prestige did come into the conversation more than once. John’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted as Margaret turned to him.

“Tell me, Mr. Thornton, any plans for spring break?” she smiled up at him. She felt a rush of warmth through her as she saw one side of his mouth go up in one of his half smiles.

John pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “Well, I have heard of an expedition out west. Scenery, national parks, could be boring without the right company.” He laughed as she poked him, then leaned down and kissed her on the lips, lingering for a very long time.


	34. Friends, Old and New

“John! John!” John turned when he heard his name called, and groaned to himself. He hadn’t wanted to run into Katherine again.

“Hi, I’ve been trying to reach you, you never answer your phone. How have you been? When are you coming to dinner?” Katherine had just hurried to catch up to John as he approached one of the buildings on campus. He stopped and turned to talk to her, glancing at the building doors, watching for Margaret.

It had been almost a month since he had that coffee with Katherine, and spring break started at the end of the week. He had never spoken directly with Katherine about her dinner invitation. He had finally returned her call at a time he guessed she would be out, and he’d left a message for her, thinking that would be the easiest way to turn down the invitation. Now, now’s the time to tell her I won’t be having dinner with her and her creep of a husband, ever, and I’m certainly not taking Margaret there.

“Katherine, how are you? I was just …” John stopped, seeing Margaret coming out of the building just a few steps away. Margaret saw them and hesitated just a moment, then walked over to them, smiling and saying hi.

“Margaret, this is Katherine Len … . Katherine, I just realized I don’t know if you changed your name when you married. Is it Lennox now, or is it still Hartman?” As John asked, he moved just the smallest bit closer to Margaret, but decided against putting his arm around her, not wanting to appear possessive, or possibly worse, insecure in the company of both old and new girlfriends.

“Lennox, of course. And who is this lovely young girl?” John and Margaret both heard something in her tone when she said ‘young girl’ and it brought the tiniest frown to Margaret’s face. She still has feelings for John, not that I blame her, being married to that … man. Does she think John’s still … ?

“Mrs Lennox, I’m Margaret Hale, it’s nice to meet you. I’m one of Fran’s room mates. It’s so nice to meet one of John’s old friends.” Margaret smiled, holding out her hand, noticing the woman’s eyes narrow when Margaret said ‘old’ friend. I think I’m learning some of these games people play.

After they shook hands, there was an awkward silence while Katherine looked Margaret over from head to toe. Margaret smiled when she saw the appraising look, and looked right back. She is beautiful, and confident. John must … Stop it. He loved her, past tense, and she’s married now, so … Margaret smiled and apologized, saying she had to meet someone. She turned to John, and he saw a look on her face that he didn’t recognize, but she was definitely smiling. “John, I’m going back to the suite. I’ll see you tomorrow night, all right?” 

And then Margaret stepped closer to him, reaching up and putting her hand behind John’s head, her fingers in his hair, gently pulling him down to her level. She had the softest smile on her face as she kissed him on the cheek. As she slowly pulled back, she slid her hand down from the nape of his neck and trailed two fingers lightly across his jaw, smiling. John didn’t move, in fact, he barely breathed, he was so surprised by Margaret’s actions. She had never kissed him in front of anyone before. 

Katherine watched them, seeing John’s eyes widen slightly, seeing the slight flush on his cheek as Margaret kissed him, seeing his mouth open slightly as her fingers touched his jaw, seeing him stare at Margaret as she stood next to him. Margaret smiled at Katherine, and walked away. John turned back to Katherine, the smile still on his face and in his eyes. She spoke before he could say anything.

“She’s lovely John. A bit young for you, perhaps?” she said, raising her eyebrows and smirking.

John frowned at her and shook his head in disbelief. “Hardly in the same league as you and your husband, Katherine. At least twenty years, isn’t it?” Katherine flushed, opening her mouth to say something, but John continued. “I won’t be coming to dinner. If you really need to know why, ask your husband. Margaret has just switched out of his class.” He saw the frown, the look in her eyes. It didn’t matter to him, he wasn’t interested in renewing his friendship with her, if they were ever actually friends. John said goodbye and walked off to class, thinking only about Margaret and the way she had just said goodbye.

***

Franco opened the door and Margaret laughed when she saw the apron he was wearing - ‘the trouble with eating Italian Food is 3 days later, you’re hungry again’. He kissed her on both cheeks before letting her go. “Margaret, how good to see you again. John, come in, come in, put your coats on that bench. Let’s get you some wine.” Just a few minutes later Margaret disappeared into the kitchen with Franco and Ann and John sat in the living room, catching up. 

“Yes, spring break. We’re leaving tomorrow for Las Vegas. Not that we’re going to spend any time there, really except the last night. We’re picking up a van and driving into Utah and Arizona. Mostly a scenery trip, but it should be relaxing, and Fran is so excited. She’s never been out west at all. And of course, I’ll be there with Margaret,” he smiled and raised his eyebrows. Ann laughed.

“Franco and I are going to Paris next week for a few days, looking at new collections. Then we’re taking a long weekend in Naples at the end so I can meet his family. A little scary, sounds as if it would take a soccer stadium to seat them all, and you know I’ll never remember anyone’s name. Anyway, I’m nervous and excited at the same time about it.” 

“Ann, once they see how happy Franco is, they’ll love you. And it’s obvious that he’s happy, when you walk into the room, he gets this light in his eyes. Even I can see it.” John grinned at her.

“John, did you know that Katherine Hartman is back? I saw her last week on campus. Looked as beautiful as ever,” Ann said quietly. Ann knew that John had had a relationship with Katherine, and suspected that he’d loved her, although he’d never said those words when they’d spoken of it. Now she wondered how this development might affect him, and Margaret. Ann liked Margaret, even more so as she saw John at his happiest in a long time.

“Yes, I knew. I saw her last month quite by accident. She was interviewing for a job at Mills. She’s married, her husband is a new tenured professor here, a real jerk.” He saw Ann’s look of surprise at the word he used and the force with which he spoke. He hesitated, wondering how much he should say. Margaret refused to bring a complaint against Lennox. “Margaret was in his psych class and, well, he behaved inappropriately, to say the least. Even after she switched out of his class, he still forced her into his office to talk to him.”

“You’re kidding?” Ann said, frowning and shaking her head. “Did he hurt her? Will anything be done?”

“No, she’s not hurt. She didn’t know what was happening at first, she never thinks people have bad intentions. Keith came to see me because Margaret wouldn’t go to Adam Bell about Lennox - that’s Katherine’s husband - and Keith was worried about her staying in the class.” John saw the puzzled look on Ann’s face.

“Keith? Keith ‘I need another drink to have fun’ Simpson? The last time I saw him, he was leering at Margaret at the art gallery that night.”

“Keith and Margaret have become friends.” John saw the look and laughed. “I know, I know. But you’ll be surprised the next time you see him. Keith has made some big changes in his life since that night. He apologized to Margaret, he stopped drinking, he’s going to meetings, he’s teaching Margaret to swim. He is really working hard at changes. Anyway, he found Margaret in Lennox’s office after one class, she was so upset she couldn’t talk, that’s how I found out about it. Katherine is married to this guy, and she’s looking for a job here. She’s invited us to dinner, but there’s no way I could sit at the same table with him without trying to strangle him, so I’ve begged off.”

John turned his head to glance into the kitchen and his eyes opened wide in surprise just as the kitchen door was swinging shut, blocking any further view of Margaret in Franco’s arms.

***

“Which do you enjoy more, Margaret, the formal church wedding or something simpler?” Franco asked as he checked the pasta. Franco’s sister was getting married in Naples in July and he had laughed when telling Margaret he was very happy to be here during the planning, rather than at his parents’ home. He told her that he received emails regularly on guests, food, attire. “If I didn’t think my mother would have a heart attack, I would get married very quietly, just a few friends, and probably here rather than in Italy,” he chuckled.

“I don’t really know. I’ve never been to a wedding,” Margaret said with a blush.

“Really?” he said in surprise. “How did you ever manage that? I’ve been attending family weddings since I was a small boy, aunts, uncles, cousins, and now of course, friends from school, colleagues.”

She took a deep breath. “Well, um, I grew up with just my parents. I never had any other family, and my parents … ” Margaret gave a small shrug. “We just never went to … anywhere.”

Franco frowned briefly, then asked, “Well, what kind of wedding do you want, when the time comes? All American girls, oh, sorry, women,” he grinned, “don’t they grow up dreaming about their weddings?”

“I don’t really know. I never … well, I didn’t have any friends to talk to about … such things.” Margaret paused, and shook her head. “I’ve never thought about marriage. … Well, not … well, I’ve never … ” Margaret stammered, remembering meeting Jared, the abduction, being measured for a “wedding dress.”

Margaret squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears and bit her lip, thinking about her parents, their plans for her, how wrong things had gone, Jared, hospitals, trials. Suddenly she felt strong arms gently encircling her and she opened her eyes as Franco whispered, “I’m so sorry, Margaret. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Franco stepped back, looking at her with concern. “Ann told me you had lost your parents, but I didn’t know you didn’t have any other family. That must be so difficult, Margaret. I complained about my family before, but I would be lost without them. I miss my brothers, my little sister, our family gatherings. Family is very important, and not having them … well, I can’t imagine that.”

Margaret sighed, and gave a little shrug. “I miss my parents. A lot. My life has changed so much … But I have Fred and Uncle Adam. And I’ve made a few friends. No weddings so far, but that will happen sometime, right? Maybe a roommate, a friend.” She turned as the timer went off, glad to be able to end this conversation. It had been a hard week. The ache she felt, she wanted, needed to keep it to herself. “Dinner time,” she said, a little too brightly. She opened the kitchen door to call Ann and John to the table.

***

“Margaret.” John had just parked the car near Margaret’s dorm, but he made no move to get out of the car. He turned toward her, unbuckling his seat belt. “You were very quiet at dinner. Did … something upset you?”

“What? No. No. We cooked dinner, we talked.” Margaret was tired and had spent most of the past hour thinking about her parents. She hadn’t really paid attention, hadn’t really noticed John watching her during dinner, during the drive home. She was resting her head against the car seat, just staring out the windshield, not turning towards him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to … . I’ve just been thinking about things Franco and I talked about.”

She heard the sigh and now she turned and saw the look on John’s face. Confusion? Uncertainty? He reached out a hand and traced a finger along the back of her hand. “Margaret, I saw you, in the kitchen, with Franco’s arms around you, and you’ve really not spoken much since. Anything you want to tell me?”

Margaret’s mouth opened in surprise, then slowly shut. She just sat and stared for a moment, and then smiled softly at him. “No, John, there isn’t anything I want to tell you.” She paused, staring out the window again, then said, “Franco was talking about his younger sister getting married, and the craziness of all the planning, but it was so easy to hear how much he misses them all. And he asked about my family … ” 

Margaret said something else so softly, John had to ask her to repeat it. “It was my mother’s birthday Sunday. And it would have been their twenty fifth wedding anniversary two days later. It makes me sad sometimes to remember and I think Franco understood.” She looked back at John with bright eyes and he took her into his arms, rocking her gently.

***

Adam was on one side of her, John on the other. Fred and Fran were sitting across the aisle, so all of the men had aisle seats. They would arrive in Las Vegas at 1:00 in the afternoon, more than enough time to pick up the SUV and drive to Zion by the late afternoon.

They were on the taxiway, just one more plane before they took off. As they lined up for takeoff, John watched Margaret’s face. Her mouth was open slightly, eyes darting all around the cabin, she was breathing a bit faster than normal, and leaning forward. As they picked up speed on the runway, he saw her grip the armrests. 

“Nervous?” John whispered.

“No, no … no.” She was biting her lower lip, just waiting for takeoff. She had stood at the window near the gate, watching planes land and take off for almost two hours, a small smile on her face. John knew Margaret had never flown before, but she denied being nervous each time he asked. “Excited isn’t the same as nervous. I’ve been looking forward to this ever since Uncle Adam first talked about the trip.”

They sped down the runway, noise in the cabin steadily increasing, and John looked across and saw Adam watching Margaret too, a small smile on his face. Another new experience for Margaret. As the plane made that final surge and lifted into the air, Margaret closed her eyes and a huge smile spread across her face. She opened her eyes and whispered just one word, “wow,” and then she laughed out loud. John and Adam each squeezed one of her hands and laughed themselves. Margaret liked flying.


	35. Hoodoos, Mittens, Wingspans and … Disappearances

“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” John whispered, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back to lean against his chest. Margaret could hear Fred saying the same thing to Fran, and both of them opened their eyes at the same time. John heard a little gasp as Margaret took in the scene in front of them.

Spread out before them in a semi-circular array were spires and pillars in fantastic shapes, colored in deep golds, reds, oranges, the palest yellows, glowing in the the setting sun. Neither Margaret nor Fran said anything, just staring at the sight before them, stretching as far as they could see.

They had spent the early part of the day exploring Zion Canyon, marveling at the ‘pancake’ rock formations, the mountains, the cold fog obliterating the tops of some of the formations in the early morning. It had warmed up by noon, enabling them to shed their heavy fleece jackets and clamber around more easily. But it was much colder here at Bryce Canyon, and Margaret shivered in John’s arms as she stood there, watching the hoodoos change color as the sun lowered to the horizon.

“Margaret, you’re cold. Shall we go back to the car?” John said, pulling her closer to him. Fred and Fran had already escaped back to the warmth of the truck where Adam was waiting.

“Oh, no, please! This is too beautiful, I don’t want to leave.” 

“Okay, but just five more minutes, you’re shivering so hard you’re starting to make me shake,” he said in her ear. When the five minutes were up, he wouldn’t listen to Margaret’s chattering voice trying to convince him she wasn’t really cold, just excited, and he turned her around and walked her back to the truck, his arm around her. When they climbed in, he just rolled his eyes and laughed when Adam asked what took them so long to come in out of the cold.

Before they went to their rooms that night, Margaret asked John if they could be at the viewpoint at least ten minutes before dawn the next morning. When he agreed, Margaret smiled and stretched up to kiss him lightly on the cheek. She blushed, looking over to Adam and Fred, who were carefully studying brochures that she knew they’d already read quite thoroughly. “Good night, Uncle Adam, Fred,” she said and went to join Fran in their shared bedroom.

While Margaret didn’t want to admit it to the others, she was exhausted. She had been so keyed up for their flight, then had spent all of the time Adam or John were driving looking at everything they passed, twisting around in her seat to make sure she missed nothing on either side of the highway, then, in her excitement, barely sleeping their first night. She heard Fran talking to her from the other bed as she pulled the covers up, but fell asleep before she could even figure out what Fran was saying.

***

Adam had a smile on his face when John came into the dining room for breakfast. ”Adam, what’s up? You look amused about something.”

Adam laughed. “John, do you remember your mother asked me to dinner last week? She wanted to talk about the trip. I was worried at first that she’d changed her mind about letting Fran come with us. But it wasn’t really that.” He grinned. “She was, umm, the best word would be concerned, about both of you.” He saw John raise his eyebrows at that. “She wanted to make sure I took my duties as chaperone seriously.”

“Adam,” John said, blushing lightly, “there’s no need …”

“John, don’t worry, I know that. I assured her nothing inappropriate would happen on the trip. But I didn’t know at the time that I wouldn’t be the chaperone.” He grinned again at John’s puzzled look. “Now I’ve realized that having Margaret’s brother share a room with you is chaperone enough, and you sharing a room with Fred works for Fran. No worries for me.” Adam smiled and went back to his french toast, leaving John shaking his head and chuckling.

***

“I took so many photos yesterday and this morning. It’s a good thing we brought the computer to download the pictures, or I would fill up my card way too fast.” Margaret smiled as she cut her french toast. They had stayed overnight at a small, rustic bed and breakfast just seven miles from Bryce Canyon, so it had been an easy drive just before dawn to see the sun come up at the canyon. Fred and Fran had gone with them, Uncle Adam deciding to sleep in. They wore several layers to ward off the early morning frost, and Margaret hadn’t needed much persuading to stay in the car until the sun was just starting to show, although she did like having John’s arm pressed tightly around her when they were out in the cold. Both men brought blankets, wrapping their arms around the women, and the blankets around both of them. Margaret’s hands peeked out from the layers around her so she could take her photos.

The colors had been so different from the previous afternoon, Margaret hadn’t the words to describe them. The morning light seemed so much harsher than the glow of the afternoon. She planned on having a slide show with her laptop late in the day, once they were at the hotel in Kayenta. And now Margaret was looking forward to touring Monument Valley. She’d seen pictures of the monuments since she was a small child and was looking forward to seeing the real thing.

But she was taken aback when Fran had gaped at her in shock when Margaret talked enthusiastically about all the John Ford and John Wayne movies filmed in that area, Fran pulling a face at the thought of someone admiring John Wayne. She knew Fran’s taste in films ran to current romantic comedies and anything Brad Pitt or George Clooney starred in, but she hadn’t expected total dismissal of a genre which had been a staple of her childhood.

“Well,” Margaret had said, feeling a bit defensive, “Father admired the men they … stood for, tried to portray, I guess. I know his acting wasn’t the best, and he certainly wasn’t handsome, but John Wayne’s characters were loyal, and strong, and stood for right …” Margaret faltered, seeing Fran roll her eyes. “He protected people, Fran. He kept people safe. That was very important to Father, it was his life, keeping us safe. We watched the westerns so many times, and the scenery was so beautiful. People had a hard life there, but it seemed so beautiful. I can’t wait to see it.” 

“Sorry, Margaret, I’m sure I’ll like the area, but watching a John Wayne movie? I don’t think so. You’d have to tie me down,” she said, shaking her head vehemently.

“Well, that sounds interesting,” Fred said with a wicked grin. “Margaret, we’re going to get some old westerns from the library when we get back home. We’ll tie Fran to the couch and make her watch all of our favorites,” Fred said, as he laughed at the face Fran made.

***

“Margaret, what are you doing?” John walked up behind her as she stood at the low wall surrounding the visitor center area. She was looking out over the valley, holding up both hands, palms outward, smiling. He was trying to hide his grin, but she saw it and gave him a poke in the ribs. 

“Oh, stop laughing at me. Look! Look at them, the Mittens. I’ve seen them so many times in pictures, but they’re awesome in real life, John.” John stood behind her and looked out beyond her hands to see the Mittens in the distance, deep orange/red shale and sandstone monuments, weathered through thousands of years.

They hired a local guide at the visitor center for their trip around the 17 mile road through the valley. They introduced themselves as university students and professors with very little knowledge of the geology of the area. So as they left the visitor center and started on the heavily rutted dirt road that would take them past some of the most photographed vistas in the southwest, Michael launched into a description of the valley and the different layers of stone which made up the formations they would pass.

The tour took four hours, with several hikes from the car out to better viewpoints for monuments. Each time they got out, a different person would wind up walking with Michael, asking questions about tribal history, current conditions on the reservation, the education opportunities for the people in the area. Kayenta was a thriving town, but the Navajo tribal Park was more than 20,000 square miles, its size dwarfing anything else nearby.

When they returned to the visitor center, Margaret and Fran both spent a long time looking at native jewelry. John wasn’t surprised that Fran was doing that, but he didn’t understand Margaret’s interest. He had never seen her wear jewelry of any kind.

“Margaret, do you see something you like?” John had come up quietly behind her, seeing her lingering again over one particular item. “Something I could buy for you?” he whispered the last. John looked down to see Margaret looking at the only necklace in the case with a stone that wasn’t turquoise. It was on a liquid silver chain, and the silver pendant contained a polished stone that was a muted orange, with lighter swirls through it where it looked as if it had been layered, had actually grown. The woman watching them came over to tell John that the stone was actually a part of a spiny oyster shell.

“No, no, I … it is beautiful. But I don’t wear jewelry. Father said it wasn’t … it just called attention. He said I looked nice without it.” She looked up at John, smiled and shrugged her shoulders, and turned to follow Fran outside.

***

John turned quickly, hearing Margaret gasp. They were with a small group of people waiting for a park ranger who was scheduled to give a talk on raptors. They’d arrived a little early, and now were waiting for the talk to begin near the rim of the canyon. Suddenly there were quiet murmurs from everyone.

“Margaret?” he said, wondering if something was wrong. And then he saw what she was looking at. A huge black bird, with a wingspan of at least eight feet, was not twenty feet away from them, having just slowly drifted up from below the canyon rim on an air current. He could see something large and white on the underside of one wing, with a number on it. As they watched in silence, the condor hovered near them for a long minute, then glided away and out of sight again, never flapping its wings once.

The park ranger, who had arrived for his talk just as the bird was disappearing from sight, answered several questions from the group on the condor population in the canyon, then reminded them that there would be a talk later in the day about condors, but as they were vultures and not raptors, he wouldn’t be talking any further about them.

They had been at the Grand Canyon for two days, spending hours walking in different areas at different times of the day. Margaret had been almost speechless at the views, the sheer size of what she saw. She tried to take photos, snapping picture after picture, eagerly downloading the photos to her computer in the evening. But when she saw the photos on the laptop screen, she found that the camera simply couldn’t capture what she was seeing with her eyes. The scene was just too vast, and changing constantly as the light changed. She captured a disappointingly small part of that with each photo.

“Margaret, what’s the matter? You’re awfully quiet,” Fred said as he and Margaret sat at their table. They were having dinner at Bright Angel Lodge on their last night, and were waiting for John and Fran, who were talking with Hannah and Belle. Adam had been surprised earlier in the afternoon in the bookstore to see a colleague from a neighboring university, and they were having dinner together at another restaurant.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong, I’m just thinking about our holiday being over tomorrow. I’ve had a wonderful time, Fred. We never traveled far from Pennsylvania when I was growing up, never saw anything like this. Is it the way you remember it?” 

“Well, I was four when Dad and I came out here the first time, so my memories … Well, I do remember lots of things, but from a different perspective, a child’s view. I remember the sheer size of everything, the animals, seeing deer in the woods here, squirrels and chipmunks playing near the canyon rim here and at Bryce, the colors. Yeah, I really remember the oranges and reds and yellows, and so many places with no trees, so different from home.”

“So, here we are on our own for the first time,” John said as he walked down a path with Margaret. Once they had finished dinner, they had separated from Fran and Fred, who had gone for a walk in the opposite direction. It was the first mild evening they’d had here, and it was pleasant enough to walk outside with just light jackets. John smiled as he took Margaret’s hand and brought it to his mouth for a light kiss. “How are you doing? Looking forward to going home?”

“Yes, and no. It’s been wonderful here, I’ve seen so many things I’d only seen pictures of before, done things, flown, stayed at a hotel. But, I like my life at home, and … well, in some ways this is like a really long date, but with lots of other people around. I haven’t had any time alone with you all week,” she said shyly. “I miss that.”

John smiled and put his arms around Margaret and pulled her close. “Well, Margaret, we’re alone now,” he said huskily as he kissed her throat, her jaw, her temple, her lips.

***

The three men were startled awake by a cell phone ringing in their hotel room at 6:30 in the morning the day they were leaving to return to Las Vegas to go home. Adam groaned as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and reached for his phone. “Good grief, who could be calling at this hour? Hello. Who? … What? … Yes … yes. … Hold on.” Adam lowered his hand, staring at Fred and John. “Fred, Margaret … ” The intensity in his eyes and voice had Fred bolting out the door, John following right behind him.

“Fran, Margaret, open the door! Fran!” John and Fred banged loudly on the next door until a blinking Fran opened it and stared at them.

“What? What’s the matter?” she said as John and Fred quickly walked inside and saw two empty beds.

“Margaret? Fran, is Margaret in the bathroom? Where is she?” They looked in that direction, hoping she was there, but could see the bathroom door was open with no light on.

Fran shook her head. “I was asleep until you banged on the door.” She looked around the room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “No, Margaret isn’t here. Why, what’s happened?” 

John and Fred quickly scanned the room, not even sure what they were looking for, perhaps hoping for a note from Margaret saying where she had gone without telling anyone. They turned, John grabbing Fran’s robe and putting it around her shoulders, escorting her back to the other room where they’d left Adam.

“Dad, Margaret wasn’t in her room.” Adam could see Fred’s worried look, and John was standing with his arm around Fran, who looked bewildered.

“Margaret’s fine,” Fran said. “What’s the matter?”

“What do you mean, Fran, where is she?” John asked.

“She wanted to go to a viewpoint for sunrise, but we had to be up at 4:45 to catch the van for the ride and I was too tired, and said she should ask one of you.” Fran looked around, wide eyed, and shook her head. “I guess she decided this was another of those things she was ready to do alone. It must be where she is, I didn’t hear her get up, but I’m sure that’s what her plan was. Call her cell.”

As Fred grabbed his cell phone and punched the speed dial number that was Margaret’s, Adam spoke for the first time since they returned. Adam had dressed quickly and had his hand on the door when the others had come back to the room, and now he needed to tell them why he was so upset. “That was the prosecutor’s office in Pennsylvania. Boucher and his friend - they’ve disappeared, they don’t know exactly how many days ago.” He saw the grim look on both John and Fred, and he thought Fran was going to cry when she heard what he said.

They all watched Fred, waiting, hoping that Margaret was going to answer, that she was going to be there to say she was fine. They heard the first ring, the next, the next, the next.

“Margaret! Margaret, thank god. Where are you? Are you all right? Is anyone with you?” Fred asked questions so rapidly, they all knew Margaret wasn’t getting any time to say anything, but they all breathed a sigh of relief to know that she was answering her phone. Fred stopped talking long enough to hear something, then said, “Margaret, tell me exactly where you are so we can come get you right now. … No, no, I don’t want to wait for the van to bring you back. We’re coming to get you now. Stay right where you are. Are there any park personnel there? Stay with them until we get there Margaret, please. We’re leaving now. Margaret, I love you, I’ll be right there.” Fred closed his phone and sighed heavily. “She’s fine, but let’s go right now, John.”

John and Fred found Margaret standing next to a park ranger, chatting easily about the geology of the canyon. Fred was out of the truck before John put it in park and ran over to embrace her. “Margaret, thank god you’re all right. Why didn’t you tell me where you were going? I would have come with you.”

Margaret smiled and hugged Fred, apologizing for worrying him. She had cringed when she answered her phone earlier and heard how worried he had been. She thought she would get back to the room before anyone else woke up, and now she had worried them just because she wanted to see the canyon with the dawn light playing on so many cliff faces at once. She sighed; she just couldn’t seem to get it right, again choosing the wrong time to exercise her independence and give her escorts a break. 

***

”Uncle Adam, I’m so sorry you were worried. I thought I’d be back before anyone else was up. What happened? Why are you upset? Fred said we’d wait to talk about it until we were all together.” Adam hugged Margaret, as did Fran, then she and Fran sat, waiting.

“Margaret, the prosecutor called. Boucher and his friend are gone, and both families too. They didn’t call in two days ago as required, so they requested officers in Pennsylvania to go there and put them into custody early this morning. Turns out the houses were empty, everyone was gone. Then they found out they hadn’t gotten the call from social services three days before that each of the Boucher children had been dropped off for school but then left without going into class.” Adam paused, just shaking his head. If they’d just gotten the call from the schools, if they’d called the police then.

“They took Caleb too, he was still at home, the court hadn’t yet decided on his placement after his conviction. It seems their houses have been sold, new families were moving in when the police showed up. They have no idea where they are,” he said quietly, waiting for Margaret’s reaction.

“What about Jared?” she asked.

“Oh, huh. I don’t know, I didn’t even think to ask when I heard the other news. Margaret, we weren’t worried about Jared, we were worried about the other two, and now … ” Adam looked around at everyone in the room, and the only one who seemed calm was Margaret.

“Uncle Adam, please let me have your phone.” Margaret took his cell phone, walked into the bathroom, shut the door and called the prosecutor back. “Mr. Carlson? This is Margaret Hale. … Yes. … Yes, I understand. Mr. Carlson, what about Jared? … Thank you. Yes, we’ll be careful. No, that’s not necessary. No, but thank you. Bye.” Margaret closed the phone. She stood staring in the mirror for several minutes, thinking, and then she opened the door. The others looked up to see the calmest look on her face, a small smile. “Jared’s at work, just where he should be.” She shook her head. His family had not contacted him once since he had left jail. They’d simply abandoned him, and now … Margaret sighed, then noticed everyone staring at her.

“Okay. Adam, did the prosecutor have any suggestions about what we should do now? Should we contact the local police …”

Margaret interrupted John. “Everything’s fine. We won’t see them again. Ever.” She saw the dubious expressions on the faces of all of the men, each of them preparing to interrupt. “They’re gone. The police probably won’t find them, and they won’t come for me again.”

“Margaret, how can you know that? These are dangerous men, they’ve proven that, now, now we don’t know where they are … we can’t know what they’ll do,” Adam said.

“Uncle Adam, I know. I know because that’s what’s supposed to happen, when things go wrong, when the authorities come for … someone.” She bit her lip, seeing all of them stare at her. 

Margaret took a deep breath. “My family had a plan. I didn’t know the details, just that the important thing was that we be together and someday, someday we might have to leave. I heard my parents talking, about two years ago, when one of my father’s friends … well, he got in some kind of trouble. Something about guns and permits, a stranger came onto his property and got hurt. I’m not sure really. He was arrested, but I think the charges were dropped. But the whole family just disappeared. I heard my parents talking one night about them. My father knew they were okay, living someplace else.” 

“There was a group of friends, Father met with them every once in a while, but Mother said she knew some of their names and all of them had been military. All of the families had plans, I think. Houses, assets, everything … . Uncle Adam, do you remember, when we saw the lawyer after my parents died? Everything had been in a trust, and nothing needed Father’s signature. In case something happened, because if something did happen, it would always be the men the authorities would be coming for. Everyone had new places to go, just in case.” She looked at them and took a deep breath. “We’ll never see them again.”

There was silence in the room, as each of them thought again of how Margaret grew up, and how far she had come from that to where they were now. The men looked at each other, wondering if it could possibly be as safe as Margaret felt, wondering if the danger, the fear stirred up again really could be behind them.

"Please believe me, Uncle Adam, Fred. They're gone for good, I'm sure," Margaret said, and they could all see the relief in her face as she smiled.


	36. Decisions, Decisions

John reached into his case and pulled out the envelope. He read the letter for the third time, and then just sat, staring out the window of his office, not seeing anything. He sighed heavily, and then decided to go for a swim. It was late and he was tired, but he needed the exercise, a place where no one could reach him, where he could think.

Why? Why now? Why … ? He shook his head and slipped into the pool, starting laps. Half an hour later, he was debating whether to keep swimming, in spite of his tiredness, when he realized this was one of the nights that Margaret and Keith would be at the pool. I can’t be here when they come, I can’t talk to Margaret yet, I have no idea what I’m going to do or say, what I’m ready to say, what she’s ready to hear. John quickly got out of the pool and managed to get out of the building just a few minutes before the scheduled swim lesson.

As he lay in bed that night, John couldn’t stop going back over the letter and the decision he didn’t want to have to make now. They had just returned from their break a week earlier. The week away had been wonderful, he was glad that Fran had the chance to see so much, and he was happy to spend time with Fred and Adam. But it was his time with Margaret that he kept going back over. He couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face as he thought particularly about his last night with Margaret, the only time they’d really had alone. The little shivers he felt from her as he kissed her, the tiny moan he was sure he heard when he told her they had to go back inside, his desire to stay with her, … 

John groaned. Now what? He had never really thought there was any chance this would happen, so he hadn’t given it a single thought for at least three months. Now, he had no choice. He couldn’t think about anything else.

When John was in his second year at college, he had been in a seminar group where each student’s task for the class was to develop an investment model based on guidelines given by the professor. John had used his coding skills to develop a program that was far more sophisticated than that of the other students. His professor had seen the potential in what John was doing and encouraged him to develop his ideas outside the class parameters. 

John had gone on to co-author three published papers with Professor Larson over the next two and a half years. When John was in his final year, his teacher had been offered a tenure track position at the University of Chicago, and they continued to collaborate long distance after John finished his degree. John had been an unofficial teaching assistant in Professor Larson’s advanced classes his final year, and the professor had encouraged John to take up the proffered teaching position at Mills, knowing he would be good with students and hoping he would enjoy it. 

The previous summer Professor Larson had returned to Mills for a long weekend and they spent some time discussing their latest paper together. He told John of a junior faculty position at Chicago for which applications were being accepted and he urged John to apply immediately. John would have a year’s teaching experience at Mills before the position was to be filled, then he could come to Chicago. 

John had just shaken his head and smiled. He knew Professor Larson had a good opinion of his skills, but Chicago? The best economics department in the country? John thought it would be a waste of his time applying, but the professor refused to leave without John’s promise to apply. He had gone for an interview before classes started, and believed it had gone well, but didn’t think there was any chance he would be chosen for the position. He simply didn’t have enough experience compared to other applicants. There had been follow up discussions by telephone, but John had simply put the possibility out of his head.

And now … now, when he was certain of his feelings for Margaret, and no longer panicked by them … now he was having to make the decision to … what? 

He had enjoyed teaching. But, was he prepared for what this step might mean for him, for his family, for his life? Could he simply pick up and move, knowing exactly one person in Chicago? Fran was doing well, and she had their mother and Aunt Belle just a few minutes away. His mother and Aunt Belle … well, he couldn’t have dreamed of a better outcome from Aunt Belle moving here. No, they’d miss him if he moved to Chicago, but he knew his family would be fine.

But, what about Margaret? Could he leave her, move 1,000 miles away, not see her for at least a year. Or … or … no, asking her to go with him was just not possible. It was going to be hard enough to uproot himself and try to settle down in a strange environment. How could he do that to Margaret … ask her to leave her family, the only friends she had in the world, ask her to leave the familiar for the unknown, for the second time in just one year. It wouldn’t be fair to her, and there was no way she could be ready for what this would mean. Not after what she had been through in the past nine months.

***

The next morning Adam saw John standing in the faculty lounge, just staring out a window. “John, you seem lost in thought. Anything wrong? The dean told me you haven’t signed your contract for next year. Are you thinking about giving up teaching already, making other plans? I thought you enjoyed your classes, and I know your student evaluations from last semester were uniformly excellent.”

John turned, a surprised look on his face. “Adam, I was just thinking about you, I was going to come look for you. No, nothing’s wrong, just … something’s come up that I wasn’t expecting. It’s making the decision about next year much harder.” John reached over to his computer bag and drew out an envelope, which he handed to Adam. 

“Congratulations, John! What an opportunity!” Adam beamed at John after he read the letter inside. “Why is this making your decision harder? An offer from the premiere economics department in the country? And Professor Larson is there. I remember how well the two of you got on, and the publications you did together. Even with email, it would be easier to collaborate being in the same school. I don’t see how you can say no.”

“Well, I’m not sure I can, uh, should leave Mills right now, Adam,” John said, surprised that Adam would think the decision could be so simple.

“I know your family is important to you, but John, Fran’s doing fine in school, your mother and your aunt are doing well. You’ve told me how happy you are that everything is going so well for all of them. You’re not really considering turning this down, are you?” Adam looked at him incredulously. “They do have planes from Chicago to back here, I’ve seen them,” he teased lightly.

John smiled briefly. “Adam,” he said quietly as two other faculty members walked into the lounge, “it’s not just my family that I would miss.” John hesitated, coloring slightly, wondering why Adam hadn’t already guessed why he wouldn’t immediately jump at this opportunity. “I’m … well, there’s Margaret. I … ” John paused, seeing a frown on Adam’s face. “What? Adam, you don’t disapprove, do you? I thought, what with our shared holiday and all, that you were comfortable with me seeing Margaret.”

“No, no, John, that’s not … no. I think … well, you shouldn’t make this decision based on where Margaret will be next year. This is a major opportunity for you, particularly so early in your career. John, I’m not knocking Mills, I love it here and can’t imagine leaving. But, if you want to continue to teach, if you want to be in the right place in your chosen field, particularly this early in your career, Chicago is the place to be. The reputation you could earn there would take you anywhere you wanted to go.” Adam frowned again and then it was a long time before he spoke, staring out the window, not seeing anything there, as he remembered the family conversation they’d had just two days earlier.

“Margaret, Fred just got the acceptance letter,” Adam had said when they all sat down in the library after dinner. Fred had asked Margaret to come home for dinner that evening, saying they needed to talk.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Fred, you must be so excited,” she said. Then she saw the looks they were both giving her and remembered what else this was about. “Oh, right.”

Margaret had known that Uncle Adam was on sabbatical the next academic year, and that he would be in England for at least three months doing research. In fact, they had planned that she and Fred would travel with him to England in August and then return when classes started at Mills in September. Now Fred’s good news, and the disappearances in Pennsylvania, forced them to reassess their plans.

Fred had applied to study economics for one semester in London. When he submitted the application, he knew that the huge number of applications to the particular program he wanted meant there was no guarantee that he could secure a place, even with his good grades. They’d had several discussions about Margaret’s plans for the next year, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to study abroad, not having enough credits to be able to apply to any programs. But Adam and Fred had also been worried about the scheduled hearings and trials for Boucher and his accomplice, uncertain whether Adam would be able to get back for those so Margaret would have family support. If Fred were not accepted into his program, then he would definitely be there to support Margaret through any of those proceedings.

Now, with Fred’s acceptance in the program of his choice, they were faced with the prospect of Margaret being alone, with no family, for the entire semester, Fred and Adam both abroad until late December. And while there could certainly be no trials scheduled with the men missing, Adam and Fred were not as sanguine as Margaret about the prospect of them never returning. They simply could not forget the danger Margaret had faced, the way she had looked when she came home to them last November.

“Margaret, we want you to come with us,” Adam said. “We didn’t think it was going to be possible, what with the hearings and trials that were coming up, you had to be here for that, but now, with those men gone … .” He just sighed heavily. “Margaret, I know you are sure they will never come back, and I hope you’re right. But the idea of you being here alone when we’re both in England. I … ,” Adam turned to look at Fred. “We don’t think we can go and leave you here alone.”

“Margaret, I know it wasn’t in your plans, I know you don’t want to miss another semester, but I don’t want to go, I … I don’t think I can go if you’re here alone. Please, say you’ll come with us,” Fred said quietly. “Please.”

Adam sighed and turned back from the window to face John. “John, you knew I was scheduled for sabbatical this next academic year, right?”

“Yes, you told me you would be doing research during the year off. But, I don’t see … how does that relate to what we’re talking about?” he said, puzzled.

“Well, Fred just got confirmation this weekend that his London semester has been approved. We’ll be leaving in August, so that we’ll have time to see some of the country before his classes start in September. I, I will be doing research in London and Oxford, and attending some conferences.” Adam stopped and waited for John to ask the obvious question, but John just stared at him, frowning, just shaking his head.

“Yes, John, Margaret is coming with us. She won’t be taking any classes, she doesn’t have enough course work to qualify to study abroad yet. And yes,” he said as he saw John start to protest, “she will fall farther behind. But right now, it’s more important that she be with us. She’s not nineteen yet, she has plenty of time to get her degree.” He shook his head as he saw John’s reaction. “We simply can’t go without her, John. After all that has happened, after what she’s been through, what we’ve been through with her, those men on the loose again … we just can’t go without her.”

“John, we didn’t know until this weekend that Fred had been accepted. The decision we made … we weren’t keeping this a secret, we just … it all just happened.” He took a deep breath again. “I’m sorry, John, we won’t, we can’t go without her. She knows what this opportunity means to Fred, he’d have given it up if she hadn’t agreed to come with us, and she won’t ask him to do that.” Adam’s voice just trailed off as he saw the disappointment in John’s face.

***

“John, there’s something I have to tell you,” Margaret said. She had a pained expression on her face, and John knew what she wanted to talk about. They were back at his apartment after dinner at the same Italian restaurant where they had their first date. They had walked again, enjoying the warm evening. 

John had seen and felt Margaret’s nervousness at dinner. In fact she had looked miserable ever since he had picked her up at the dorm. He didn’t think Adam had told her about John’s offer in Chicago, or that he had told John where Margaret would be in four months. And, he knew as they slowly walked back to the apartment that he hadn’t fully accepted the inevitability of their upcoming separation. They won’t, can’t leave her behind. They can’t leave her alone. But … what if she were with me? … Dammit, you’ve been through this. It’s too soon, you’re not ready to propose, she’s too young, your new job, a new city, a new university would be too much for her. … What if you stay here? It would work if you stay here, right? … Of course, if you stay here, she wouldn’t be too young anymore, would she, there would be no problems at all, right? Idiot.

John walked into the kitchen and busied himself making coffee, turning his back to her so she couldn’t see how agitated he was. “Okay, Margaret, why don’t you go first, because I have something to talk to you about too.”

“I’m going on a trip,” she said, as brightly as she could. But when John turned he saw the unhappiness in her face, and the sadness in her eyes. Margaret looked down, and shook her head. “We’re going to England in August. I … Fred won’t, can’t go without me. I can’t ask him to give up his semester in London. He’s worked so hard. John, it’s … ”

“It’s okay, Margaret, Adam told me on Tuesday,” he said quietly. “It’s really important to Adam and Fred, that you not be here alone. I understand that.” And he just watched her, waiting, he wasn’t sure for what. What can she say? She’s 18 years old, her only family is leaving the country for months, what do you expect? And why should she come up with a solution for your dilemma?

John cleared his throat. “I have some news myself, Margaret. I have had a job offer from the University of Chicago, to teach there next year. I told you about Jack Larson, he’s there and recommended me for the position.” He looked over at her, and she was just staring into her coffee cup. “It’s a great opportunity for me.” He stopped talking, not knowing what else to say. They were going their separate ways, and he didn’t know how to stop it, how to solve this problem.

“That’s wonderful for you, John,” she said quietly after a long silence. She looked up at him with bright eyes. “I’m sure your mother and Aunt Belle will miss you, and Fran of course.” He knew. He knew I was going away. But it’s fine, because he’s leaving too. … But it’s not fine, is it? When will I ever see him again? He’s the only man I’ve ever … Well, I am just 18, how many men should I have … 

And then Margaret’s eyes opened wide, and John saw a stricken look on her face. He’s been quiet all night, because he remembers what you said when he apologized for leaving. You said when you found the right person, you wouldn’t leave. So, he knows what that means. That means he’s not the right person for you. He knows you think he’s not the one. Margaret was really unhappy with that conclusion. She felt a gap growing between them already, wondering if they could ever be close again once August came.

“When are you leaving, John? How long will you be in Chicago?” she smiled with her mouth, her eyes not following suit.

“I haven’t actually accepted the job yet. If I do, I’ll have to go out to Chicago right after classes end. I need to find a place to stay. I need to talk to my mother, too.” They both stared into their coffee cups, and the conversation died.

Why not tell her how you feel? It wouldn’t make any difference to her plans, or yours, but she’d be thinking about you while she’s gone. … Not fair to her, not if you’re not ready … For pity’s sake, are you so insecure in her feelings for you that you want to make sure she is thinking only of you? And then John suddenly had a panicked thought. What if she meets someone? No commitment from you, a totally new place, new people, new guys. Get a grip, Margaret isn’t like that. You can’t ask her to wait. Wait for what? If you take this job, you have no idea when you will come back here, if ever.

John drove Margaret home in silence. He walked her to the door, and they stood for some time, just looking at each other. Margaret was surprised at the intensity of the kiss they shared before she went inside, wondering how the kiss fit with the upcoming separation.

***

“Mother, Aunt Belle, I’ve been offered a position at the University of Chicago starting in September,” John said quietly. They were sitting at Sunday lunch, just a few days after he had spoken with Adam, two days after he talked to Margaret. He had just another four days to accept the offer, and wanted to know how his family would feel about his leaving them for at least a year. He looked over to Fran, who knew where Margaret would be the next semester. 

Both of the older women looked surprised and started asking questions. “John, when did you apply for another job? Would you be teaching still? Why Chicago? What about … ?” And Aunt Belle and Hannah stopped talking at the same time when they both thought of John’s budding relationship with Margaret.

John raised his eyebrows a little when they stopped so suddenly. “I applied for a teaching position about nine months ago. I never really talked about it because I didn’t think it was possible that I’d get the job, I don’t really have the experience that a lot of the other applicants do. Mother, do you remember Professor Larson? He was here a couple of times when I was still in school, and he’s in Chicago and urged me to apply. I thought my chances were really slim, I had almost forgotten about it. Then the letter came … ” John sighed.

“It’s a very good opportunity, Chicago is really the best university for economics. The money isn’t much, but it isn’t much here either. My biggest worry is leaving all of you. How do you feel about that?” John looked at them with an embarrassed smile. Don’t be ridiculous, it’s not cowardly to ask what they think, how they feel. You aren’t asking them to tell you not to go, just getting their input. He saw them look at each other, then at Fran. They want to ask about Margaret, but stopped themselves. Might as well tell them.

“Margaret will be in England next semester,” he said, and saw the surprise on their faces. “Adam Bell is on sabbatical and Fred just got accepted in a program in London. They’ve decided they should all be together, after all that’s happened. The idea of leaving her here alone, well, without any family, they just can’t do it.”

***

“Jack, I just wanted to let you know I spoke with the dean and accepted the position for next year. … Yes, I’ll probably come out right after classes are over, look around for a place to stay. … Great, thanks, I’ll let you know when I’m coming. That will make looking for a place much easier.”  
John hung up the phone and heaved a sigh. Well, that’s that. I’m going. Alone.


	37. Margaret’s Decisions, and Some Consequences

Today was the day. Margaret was determined not to fail.

“Nervous?” Fred asked, pulling her in for a brief hug.

“Yes,” Margaret said. “This is so important for him, I have to … I have to say the right things, I have to make the judge see what I see, what I know.” Margaret was pacing the corridor outside the courtroom, unable to sit still. This hearing would determine Jared’s future, whether he went back home or to jail. She couldn’t let him down.

Once Jared’s family had disappeared, along with the accomplice, the prosecutor had agreed to schedule Jared’s sentencing hearing earlier than planned. The probation department had finished its report, and his attorney had agreed to the plea and the date.

There were very few people who actually knew Jared. He had never gone to school, had no teacher or coach or classmates who could speak as to his character. His family had avoided their neighbors, just as Margaret’s had, and none of his father’s friends would support him, knowing his family had left him in jail. The Fallons, with whom he had lived for three months after he first got out of jail, were the only ones besides Margaret who were there to speak on his behalf.

Victims of crimes were entitled to speak in court at sentencing as well as submit something in writing, and Margaret decided she had to do both. She wrote a ten page letter to the court, and told the prosecutor that she wanted to address the court in person as well. 

“Your Honor, I know Jared. I didn’t know him at the time this … happened, not as an individual, but I did know the life he was living, the influence of his home, his father, because I was living the same life. We’re supposed to love our parents, obey them, learn from them, model ourselves after them. Jared and I both did that all our lives. We both had parents who loved us, who wanted only the best for us.”

Margaret took a deep breath. “And we both had fathers who saw it as their job to protect us from any and all dangers. But those fathers viewed almost everything in the outside world as dangerous, dangerous to us, to our families. Jared and I never went to school with other children. We never went to church, or camp, never had any friends outside the family. Jared had brothers and sisters, but as the oldest, he was taught he had to protect them from danger too. And, of course, he was taught that his father knew what was dangerous, knew how to protect them the best, knew the right thing to do, even when it seemed the wrong thing to Jared.”

Margaret turned to look at Fred and Uncle Adam, and smiled. “I was lucky. When I lost my parents,” Margaret paused, her voice wavering briefly, “my brother found me. I found a new life, I went into a classroom for the first time in my life, I met so many people, made friends. It was all so foreign to me, it was almost overwhelming, but Fred and Uncle Adam, they guided me, they helped me, took care of me … loved me. But Jared, he lost his whole family when … they left him because he did the right thing after what happened. He has no one, and he deserves the chance I had, he deserves a life. Please. Please let him have a life.” Margaret stopped. She couldn’t say another word as tears ran down her cheeks. She looked at Jared as she turned to sit, and saw him biting his lip and blinking rapidly as he stared at the floor.

Margaret cried again, but this time with relief, when the judge sentenced Jared to two years probation with no jail time. Jared, the Fallons, Margaret, Fred and Uncle Adam all went out to lunch to celebrate after Jared finished with his probation officer. Margaret couldn’t help beaming when Jared shyly told them at lunch that he had met someone, a “sweet girl” who worked near his apartment. He had been afraid to ask her out, not knowing what would happen in court, but now they all grinned when he said he was hoping for a movie date this weekend.

***

Nineteen at last. Margaret’s first birthday without her parents, her first with her brother, with Uncle Adam. Her mother had always made her feel special on her birthday, and even though she never had a party with anyone other than her mother and father, she didn’t really feel as if she had missed anything. Birthdays were for family, and she just wanted to be with family, so she had a quiet dinner on the day with Fred and Uncle Adam. 

She knew they were worried, thinking she was upset about missing the coming semester, so this was a good time for her news. “Uncle Adam, I checked the schedule and found there are two summer classes I can take. The last class is over four days before we leave for England. So once I finish those classes, I’ll have a full year of courses done. I won’t be that far behind at all when we get back.” She reached out to cover his hand with hers. “I know you think I’ve been upset, but I haven’t. It’s really okay. Spending four months in England will be fun, and I’m sure I’ll learn a lot, even if there isn’t any academic credit involved. One of the summer classes I decided to take is Western Art, Ancient and Medieval, so I think it will be really helpful with all those museums I’m going to be haunting.”

“I’m glad, Margaret. That sounds like a good class for you. Fred and I were worried that, well, we didn’t really let you make your own decision about going with us, that we forced the issue with you.” He and Fred both looked apologetic and Margaret assured them that she felt comfortable with the decision.

“I really know that it was the right decision, and I’m sure I would have made the same one myself if we had the time to talk about it more before Fred had to give his answer. But it’s going to work out fine. I’ll miss Edith and Fran, and they’ll have a new roommate, but I can live here in the Spring with you, and I hope I can move back in with them next Fall.”

***

Margaret was smiling happily, John’s arms around her, his lips on her throat. This evening was going exactly the way she wanted it to. Margaret had decided they needed an evening together like the one they’d had for their first date, or some of the dates they’d had before Spring break. Things had changed and she thought it was past time to try to fix that.

Margaret wanted … what? She wanted John back, she wanted what she thought they had when they came back from Spring break, what they had before Chicago happened, before plans for England. She had been confused, disappointed, dismayed by the way John had changed. He had withdrawn in many ways, he wouldn’t talk about the separation, what it meant to them as a couple. He was good about talking about the superficial aspects of it, but Margaret wanted … more. Margaret was no longer sure that they were ‘together’, no longer sure John wanted her to be someone special to him, and she needed to know.

They’d had dinner at their favorite restaurant and then walked back to her apartment. It felt deliciously cool inside after the hot, humid air hanging over the sidewalks. John had put on the new Coldplay cd, turning the volume very low, and they had sat on her sofa, talking about everything and nothing. 

Margaret was half way through her summer courses, and told John what she was learning in western art and basic chemistry. The chemistry course seemed very simple to her. Although there hadn’t been a lab at home, her father had taught her basic chemistry and physics when she was fourteen. She had gone on to advanced courses in both, so her summer class was really just a review for her of basic principles. She told John she was looking forward to exploring the museums in London, now that she had a better grounding in the types of things she would see.

Margaret asked John about his trips to Chicago. He had found an apartment convenient to campus, and had met several of his colleagues right before they left the campus for the summer. He had stayed with Professor Larson and his family the two times he’d been in Chicago, and they’d spent a lot of time talking over some new ideas for the curriculum that Jack wanted to present to the department chair.

And then Margaret had surprised John as he talked about economics curricula by suddenly turning to face him, taking his face in both her hands and kissing him deeply, staring into those blue, blue eyes. She saw the want in them, saw the happiness that morphed slowly into unhappiness, guessing he was thinking about the next year. Margaret wanted to make him forget about that, at least for tonight, and she did her best, kissing him repeatedly until all he did was moan and kiss her back. Now they were sitting on her bed, a warmth spreading through her that felt so delicious. And suddenly … 

“John … John, what?” Margaret murmured as John pulled away from her, looking over her shoulder.

“Margaret, what is that on the chair?” he asked quietly.

Margaret turned around, puzzled. She saw her leather jacket and pants lying on the chair and frowned. “Um, that’s my … my gear. Vic didn’t want to go without me having that, so … ”

“Go? Go where? Do you mean on Vic’s bike? Because if you do, Margaret … I don’t think … ” John just looked at her, not saying anything else, just shaking his head.

“Vic is taking me to Pennsylvania tomorrow. We’re going to the house to talk to a realtor. I’ve decided it’s time, I’m selling the farm. I never want to live there again, so there’s no reason to keep it. Someone else can enjoy the country life, maybe make it a working farm again.” Margaret hesitated as John frowned. “I wanted to go there one more time, and it’s such nice weather, and … ” She saw John’s face get darker. “ It’s been a year since the accident, since they died,” she finished quietly.

“Margaret, it’s too dangerous. You’re talking about 250 miles on a motorcycle. You might as well just donate your organs now,” he snorted. “I can’t believe Adam agreed to this. You can’t go. Just forget it, you can’t go.” He huffed, shaking his head.

“Can’t go?” Margaret said, staring at him wide eyed, and as she continued to stare, John flushed. “Can’t go? I’m a grown person, I can make my own decision about this. Vic is an experienced rider and very careful, I have the best gear I can get, the weather will be good, we’ll be back before dark. I’m gong. It’s all planned, I can’t tell Vic now that I won’t go.”

“Margaret, no. This is a bad idea. You’ve been hurt enough. What if something happened to you?” John gripped her shoulders. “What would I do if something happened to you?” John pleaded.

“What would you do?” Margaret hesitated. Should I say it? What I’ve been thinking? “What you’ve been doing for the past three months, slowly retreating from me, from us, so now you treat me more like Fran than like someone you … like.” She saw several things flash across John’s face, hurt, regret, longing, but the final one looked a lot like impatience, his face flushing with anger.

“That’s not true. Don’t change the subject. I don’t think you should go on this trip, and I’m calling Adam right now,” he said as he stood up and walked towards the living room. 

“Well, then you can call from your own apartment because you’re leaving now. I need some sleep because I’m leaving very early in the morning. Good night.” Margaret slammed her bedroom door and waited to hear her front door open and shut. She was angry and sad at the same time. What nerve. He wants to control me, just like Father did, keep me under his thumb. But he doesn’t want me with him, doesn’t tell me he wants me, doesn’t ask me to even think about him, much less wait for him while he’s away. Just don’t do things, do what he says, what he wants, but … oh, damn.

***

Adam walked into the faculty lounge where John had been talking to the new adjunct they had gotten to continue with the classes he had started at Mills. John had given him the syllabus he had used, as well as some of the materials he had found helpful. When he saw Adam come in, he excused himself.

“Is she back?” he asked hopefully.

“No, but she called twice already, just letting me know everything’s fine. I expect them within the next half hour. John, Vic is very careful with Margaret.” Adam’s mobile rang. He rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket. He flipped open his phone, said hello, and then listened. John saw his eyebrows raise and a look of alarm on his face. “When? … Where? … Where are you now? … Which hospital? … Okay, I’ll meet them at the hospital.” He hung up and John looked at him, waiting to hear, knowing what it was, but still hoping Adam would say something else.

“John, it’s Margaret, there’s been an accident. I have to get to Mills General. I don’t have my car here. I … uh … ” Adam was agitated, just gripping his phone.

“Adam, my car’s right here in the lot. Let me drive, it will be faster. How bad?” John reached out to take Adam’s arm, more to stop himself from shaking than anything else.

“I don’t know how bad the injuries are. Butch said she wasn’t seriously injured, but … they are collaring and boarding them both, so ... .” Adam shut his eyes, and just shook his head, not seeing that John had blanched at that news. “I’d better call Fred and let him know. I don’t even know where he is.”

“Adam, I’ll drive. Let’s go.” Adam tried to reach Fred again when they were in the car, but his mobile was turned off, so he left a voice message. He sat back and sighed, lost in thought. Oh God, please let her be okay. She’s been through so much already. John was right, I shouldn’t have agreed. Hindsight. 

“Here we are, Adam. I want to call Fran, but I’ll wait until we find out how Margaret is so I’ll have something to tell her.” 

Adam asked John to watch what he said when Margaret arrived. “Look, you argued with Margaret last night about her going on this trip. And I agree with you that motorcycles aren’t the safest things, but John, please … ” Adam’s voice just trailed off as he looked into the distance, not wanting to think about the injuries she could have.

“Adam, of course, don’t worry, believe me, I’m not thinking I told you so.”

They walked into the emergency room and were told the ambulances hadn’t arrived yet. John and Adam sat and waited. Then they heard the sirens, and saw the first ambulance pull into the lot and shut off its lights. Two men got out, pulled open the rear doors and pulled the cot out. John and Adam walked outside and saw the patient in the cot - a huge man in leathers that had been cut open, blood on his face, strapped to a board with a cervical collar on, an iv bag hanging on a pole, splints on his left leg and right arm. It was Vic and he was asking loudly, “Where is she? Where’s Margaret?” as they wheeled him inside.

Five minutes later two motorcycles pulled into the lot just ahead of the second ambulance, the third bike trailing after. John and Adam waited as the second ambulance backed in and the doors opened. As the cot was pulled out, they were relieved to see Margaret with her eyes open, no iv bag hanging, but collared and boarded. Adam’s throat tightened when he saw the blood on her face, but it didn’t look fresh. Adam reached out and gently touched her bloodied hand as the cot was pushed into the emergency room. “Margaret, I’m here. How are you? Where are you hurt?”

“Uncle Adam, I’m really okay. I’m so sorry. Did you see Vic? How is he?” John was reassured to hear her speaking; he had a huge knot in his stomach that he hadn’t even realized was there until he saw her.

“Margaret, how are you? I was so afraid … .” Margaret hadn’t realized John was there until he stepped forward as they were wheeling her inside. She couldn’t move her head to see his face, but she heard the tension in his voice, heard anger, not knowing it was masking shock and fear. She didn’t answer him, just shut her eyes, as she was beginning to feel the pain from the fall and skidding across the ground. I won’t cry, I won’t. Did he come just to yell at me? John was stopped from going any further with Margaret by Adam holding his arm, warning him quietly not to upset her. 

Butch and Kit came over to Adam and started giving him details of what happened. Four of them had gone on the ride, Margaret riding with Vic. They had just entered an intersection where they had a green light, Vic in the lead, when an SUV had run right through the red in front of them. If Vic had gone straight, he would have crashed into the SUV, and there were vehicles on both sides, so he laid the bike down. He and Margaret had skidded and rolled in the street, while the SUV crashed into another car on the other side of the intersection. The driver had been stone drunk, and couldn’t even stand up. He was coming in a third ambulance, but the paramedics wanted Vic out first, then Margaret. The drunk could wait.

“Professor Bell, Margaret never lost consciousness, she said she didn’t have neck or back pain, her vital signs were good. I think she’s going to be fine, just really sore from the fall. Vic made sure her leather gear and helmet were the best, so she was well protected. Vic got the worst of it, a car coming behind hit him, but I think he’ll be fine too. He’s really worried about Margaret though, and he’s going to drag himself off that bed if we don’t get in there and calm him down.” Butch and Kit walked into the ER. As the doors opened, they could hear Vic yelling for Margaret. 

Adam and John went back inside to inquire about Margaret, and now the staff wanted all of her personal and insurance information. “John, I’ll take care of all this. Why don’t you see if you can find out Margaret’s condition?”

John went back to the treatment area and saw Kit and Butch helping to calm Vic down, much to the relief of the staff who hadn’t been able to get him to lie still for examination. Both Margaret and Vic had to go for x-ray, Vic insisting Margaret go first, the staff insisting that they decided which patient went first. John saw Margaret lying on a stretcher, no one near her at the moment. He hesitated just briefly, but he couldn’t help himself, he had to talk to her. He walked over to where she was lying quietly and tentatively put his hand lightly on her arm. She opened her eyes, blinked rapidly a few times, and then said, “It wasn’t Vic’s fault.”

“We know, Margaret. And I’m not worried about Vic, listen to him, he sounds as if he could bench press that SUV right now. That other driver better not get near him,” he said, hoping for, but not getting a smile from Margaret. He had wanted to kick himself, realizing how angry he must have sounded when he spoke to her earlier, and so he spoke gently to her now. “Margaret, I’m sorry if I sounded angry before, I wasn’t angry, not at all, I was just so scared that you were hurt. How are you feeling now? You must be hurting if you came off that bike onto the ground at speed.”

Margaret was quiet, and John saw her blink back tears, her mouth trembling. “I was scared. I was … ” John squeezed Margaret’s unbloodied hand lightly and smiled down at her. “My back aches, my legs, my arms.” She blinked again. “Actually, I ache all over. I probably wouldn’t have any skin left if I didn’t have this gear on. Have you talked to Vic? How is he, really?”

John told Margaret that Kit and Butch had calmed Vic down, and he had been taken to x-ray. They suspected a broken leg and arm, so he might not be riding for a while. The nurse came to prepare Margaret for x-ray, and John had to leave. He whispered to her that someone would be outside in the lobby if she needed them, and left to find Adam. Adam was standing outside, trying to reach Fred again, unsuccessfully.

***

“Margaret,” John sighed, holding her carefully. It was just 24 hours since Margaret was released from the emergency room. She’d had no real injuries from the accident. All of the blood they’d seen on her was Vic’s. She was sore and achy, but she’d been given some mild analgesics and sent home. She expected to be back in class the next day.

When she was released, John asked Margaret to spend the next evening with him, saying they needed to talk. Margaret was apprehensive, expecting a lecture on her foolishness, and was prepared to tell John to leave again, as she had the night before the ride. But he had been in her apartment for fifteen minutes now and all he’d done so far was hold her gently, his cheek pressed against hers, breathing deeply. 

“Margaret.” He pulled away to look at her. He shook his head lightly, breathed deeply, closed his eyes briefly. “Margaret. … I’m sorry for being such an idiot the other night. I worry about you, not the way I worry about Fran, not as a big brother. I was so scared when Adam got that call that you were hurt, that I was going to lose you.” John laughed quietly. “Well, not lose you, I don’t have you to lose, do I?”

“I … I don’t know what this next year, or two, or three, will bring, with us being thousands of miles apart. But …” John sighed. “I know we’re both doing the right thing. This is a great opportunity for me in Chicago, I’d have been a fool to turn it down. And going to England with your family, well, that’s the right thing too. It’s just, I’ll miss you so much and I’m not sure you know that, or believe it after what you said the other night. Margaret, I don’t think of you the way I think of Fran, not at all. Not. At. All.” And then he kissed her, over and over, convincing her of what he’d just said.


	38. New Places, New Faces

“John, what a surprise, how are you?” Adam smiled. He had just returned from four days in Oxford, putting his bag in the hall and shutting the door as the phone started to ring. He hadn’t spoken to John in two months, not since they had left Mills in early August. “How is Chicago? Enjoying the teaching there?”

John talked for a while about his classes, and Adam could hear the pleasure in his voice as he spoke of his colleagues. He and Professor Larson had already found the time to finish a paper they had been working at sporadically the entire last year. Now that they were in the same building, working together was easier.

“Adam, Jack’s presenting one of our papers in New York in November, and we’re talking about another already. I can’t believe how energizing this has been. I did enjoy teaching at Mills, and the students were great, but this feels so different. Anyway, how is your research going? How is everyone there?”

Adam smiled to himself when he heard the “everyone”, knowing that while John was interested in what he was doing, he was probably more interested in how Margaret was. Adam talked for a while about his research and Fred’s classes, then told John that Margaret was becoming acquainted with every museum in London, venturing out by herself every day. He could hear the disappointment in John’s voice when he told him he’d missed her, she was already out this afternoon. 

Adam didn’t ask, and John didn’t tell, why this was the first time they had spoken since they’d all left home. He’d known that things had been awkward between John and Margaret once they both knew they would be separated this year, but Margaret hadn’t confided in him. They would work it out themselves. Or not.

The three of them had been been settled in a flat in London for four weeks now, and Margaret hadn’t had a moment of boredom. True, she wasn’t taking any classes, but she had found so many lectures, concerts, walks and informal talks that she hadn’t had more than three free afternoons since they’d arrived. 

She had quickly learned how to make her way round the city and spent most mornings visiting different museums. She often returned to the flat for lunch if Adam was in town, then went off for an afternoon concert or talk. Once they’d established certain ground rules - her schedule for the day posted above the entryway table, neighborhoods they preferred she not go into, especially late in the day, always in touch by mobile if her plans changed in any way - they had started to relax into their life away from home. Fred was at university all day four days a week, but they usually saw him at dinner. Adam planned to spend at least one week of every three in Oxford, and Margaret had taken the train with him to spend a few days exploring the city herself the first time he went.

It was late afternoon and Margaret was almost ready to go back to the flat. She just needed a few minutes, to sit quietly after another day of being alone. Uncle Adam would be at the flat, back again from Oxford, and he would want to hear all about her week, but … she missed her friends. It had been two months, and while she could email Fran and Edith, Guy and Keith, even Vic and Davina now, she missed seeing them, laughing with them, just relaxing with people who knew and cared about her. Oh, she loved London, she loved all of the new things she had seen and was learning. But, in quiet moments, she missed the sense of home, the warm feeling of being able to look around her at any time and see people she cared about and who cared about her.

She didn’t think about John. At least she tried not to, tried very hard. She had seen the unease, the wariness in his eyes when they had finally talked openly about their separation, neither of them knowing how long they would be apart. He’d said all the right things, told her he understood that she needed to be with her family, it was the right decision, for both of them, that this was a wonderful opportunity for both of them, that she would catch up with her studies easily enough. There was more, she knew there was, but … .

Something had changed after their talk, after the accident. She couldn’t put it into words, couldn’t bring herself to ask John. Oh, he had assured her she was special to him, that he didn’t want the separation to change that, they would still date (when they were in the same state or even country, Margaret thought, succeeding, barely, in not rolling her eyes at him.) There was tenderness, there was closeness, the awkwardness with each other that had arisen tamped back down.

And there was love. She saw it, she felt it, John practically wrapped her in it, but there were no words. He struggled with it, she knew that; he was afraid of it, she knew that; he wanted her and loved her, she knew that too. But he had been in love before, had wanted to marry, had spoken the words, and had his heart broken. And now he didn’t have the words, couldn’t say them. And Margaret couldn’t, wouldn’t give them to him. She knew they had to be his, the words had to be his, even if they never came … 

So at the same time that she felt the tenderness and closeness, and the love, definitely the love, they grew further apart. The inevitability of the separation loomed, marching closer every day. Until the day came, and they were on their separate paths.

***

Margaret had found her favorite museum quickly. There was just something about the Tate Modern that kept her going back every three or four days, roaming the floors, finding new works, sometimes just sitting and staring out a window at the river, thinking. But no matter what else she looked at, she always found the time to sit with the Rothkos. She didn’t know why, she hadn’t studied art with her mother and this artist certainly hadn’t been touched on in her summer class, she didn’t know what the artist was trying to tell her, but she felt comfortable sitting there, quiet, calm, surrounded by the dark canvases. People wandered through the room, but for most, it was simply a way to get to other works, few stopping for more than a moment.

Oh, he’s here again. He always sits in the same place. Wonder where his friend is. Margaret smiled to herself. She had seen him three times now, always in the Rothko room, always with a small smile on his face. She thought he must be two or three years older than Fred, and she’d seen him talking to another young man the same age. He was quite good looking, his pale skin contrasting sharply with short, spiky dark hair which looked as if it had been ravaged by clippers. He had never spoken to her, never even looked at her as far as she knew. Not that he could see me with those dark glasses on in this dim room.

“You’re back,” he said quietly as Margaret sat on the farthest end of the bench.

Margaret’s eyes opened wide, and she twisted to look around the room to see if he could be talking to someone else, not knowing why he would be talking to her.

“You like this room.” He smiled in her direction, turning only part way towards her, his head down. “I’m Clive, Clive Benson.” He cocked his head towards her, waiting.

Margaret looked at him, surprised. He was the first person who had spoken to her in any of the museums in which she had spent so many hours. She knew it was because she kept so much to herself. She wasn’t afraid of the people, she just felt … alone, knowing no one except family, and Fred and Uncle Adam were busy with their own studies and research. She wasn’t unhappy with her solitary days, but the only friends she had were thousands of miles away, and she still hadn’t quite gotten the knack of being able to start a conversation with people she didn’t know. And of course, telling Uncle Adam and Fred that she talked to strange men would unsettle them at best, worry them, so she simply hadn’t done it.

“Yes, I … I do like these paintings.” She hesitated, then said, “And my name is Margaret, Margaret Hale.”

“American, hmm? Here on holiday, Margaret, making the rounds of the museums?” He smiled, still not looking directly at her.

Margaret bit her lower lip, wondering if she should just leave. But he sounded … sweet, almost like her brother.

“Yes, American. And no, not really a holiday. I’m, we’re here for four months, and … ” Margaret hesitated again. Should I say anything else? He’s just being friendly, the first person who has actually spoken to me, other than someone taking my money. Margaret shook her head and frowned. What’s the matter with you? You wouldn’t hesitate if you were at Mills. You could be making a friend here. And then she shook her head again, brushing away the thoughts of a stranger approaching her on campus and all that happened after that.

“I’ve seen you here before. You must like the paintings also, Clive.”

He sighed. “Yes, the brooding quality suited me perfectly last month. Now, I come for the familiar, for the quiet time I can have here. And no, please Margaret,” he said as Margaret started to get up, “you haven’t interrupted my quiet time at all. I was hoping you would come again.” 

Just as Clive turned fully toward her for the first time, someone else entered the room. “Clive, ready to go?”

Margaret recognized the other man she had seen Clive with before, and now realized how much alike they looked. Brothers?

“Charles, this is Margaret. I was just going to ask her to have a drink with us. What do you say? Does she look as if she’s going to bolt? Or call security on us?” He grinned. “Margaret, this is my cousin Charles Benson. Harmless looking, isn’t he? Come with us for a drink, or coffee, please? We’re really nice, perfect gentlemen, I promise. Well, I am, can’t really vouch for Charles there,” and he grinned.

As Margaret looked wide eyed at Charles, then again at Clive, a small smile twitching at the corners of her mouth, Charles chuckled. “Sorry, Margaret, he’s a bit pushy, isn’t he? Please, come with us. I promise we’ll be on our best behavior,” and he gave her a beautiful smile. “Clive’s talked about you for the past week, I think we missed you three days ago. If you don’t come with us, he’ll pester me horribly for the rest of the week, saying I scared you away.”

“Um, I shouldn’t, really. My uncle will be expecting me.” Margaret stood, smiling apologetically, but she stopped as Clive got up quickly, and reached out a hand towards her. That was when she realized he couldn’t see her.

“Margaret, please don’t go. There’s a café here in the museum, we won’t even have to leave the building, lots of people around. Have coffee with us, please. You can borrow my mobile, you can call your uncle, right?” He smiled, holding out his phone, “Please?”

They pretended not to be able to hear her conversation with Uncle Adam, turning their backs, Charles discussing menu choices, loudly discussing the weather, making Margaret laugh when she finished. Within five minutes her phone rang again and she knew it would be Fred. He asked if she wanted him to come for her, rather than telling her he was already on the way, and Margaret was relieved. He and Uncle Adam still worried, yet wanted to let her be her own person, not be afraid of people even while they were afraid for her. Fred was trusting her judgment.

“I’m fine, Fred. I can get home by myself.” She laughed, as Charles and Clive were waving and motioning while she talked. “No, no, Charles and Clive are telling me they won’t let me walk the streets of London alone, they want to see me home. I”ll be good, I’ll be home for dinner. Bye.”

***

“So Clive,” Adam said as he poured wine, “have you made any decisions as to what you’re going to do with your law degree?” It was the Sunday of the Thanksgiving holiday. They had spent the early part of the weekend together, just relaxing in the flat, not speaking of but remembering the events of one year ago. It had been eight weeks since she had first met Clive and Charles, and they had been spending more and more time together. Once Clive and Charles had been thoroughly grilled by Adam and Fred, they had started taking Margaret out with them two or three nights a week, to the theater, to concerts, to dinner, to pubs. Clive and Charles had become regular dinner guests and had joined them for Sunday dinner.

Clive smiled ruefully. “My father wanted me firmly on the path to becoming a barrister by now, starting at the chambers in which he is a partner. But I really don’t know now, this eye thing has given me a lot of time to think about the next 40 or 50 years. Wasn’t really the reflective type before, sorry to say, but that’s changed.”

“Yes, he’s really become quite dreary. Used to be a lot of fun,” Charles quipped, then laughed when Margaret poked him. Charles had taken leave from school to spend the time with Clive when the tumor had been found, explaining the loss of vision, and they’d been inseparable for the past three months. They had an easy relationship and Margaret enjoyed the company of both of them.

“No, he’s right, Margaret, I have changed, although I do object to ‘dreary’. Not being able to see for two months was quite a shock,” Clive said, looking across the table at Margaret. She had asked him to sit next to her, but as usual he begged off. He wanted to look at her as much as possible and preferred to sit across from her. It had been just four weeks since the surgery, and he was still marveling at being able to see everything again. He smiled as he looked at Margaret, taking in her auburn curls, her green eyes, her pale skin, red lips, … 

Margaret had gone out with Clive alone for the first time the night before. She had been surprised when she opened the door and found him standing there without his cousin. Clive said he’d been a burden to Charles long enough, and wanted some time alone with her. When he brought her home after the play, he had hesitated briefly, then kissed her very, very lightly. 

Margaret blushed as Clive looked at her so intently now, and as she saw the look that Fred and Uncle Adam exchanged. Clive knew about John, that Margaret had special feelings for a man who was now thousands of miles away, who wouldn’t be living anywhere near her for the foreseeable future, who had made no commitment to her. As he took in the young woman sitting across from him, he thought, that John is a damned fool.

***

“So, John, have you settled in well? Are you … seeing anyone?” Aunt Belle asked. John was back for the first time in three months, having booked his Thanksgiving flight in late August. He had called Hannah and Belle at least once every week, and he emailed Fran every few days, so it wasn’t that he had been out of touch. But telephone conversations didn’t really cover the kinds of things mothers and aunts wanted to talk about, to see reactions to.

John smiled, shaking his head. “I’m quite comfortable in Chicago. My apartment is fine, not as big as the one here, but adequate. I don’t really spend that much time there, I’m on campus all day, every day, and I have spent quite a bit of time with Jack, even on weekends.” He saw the raised eyebrows. 

He had missed Margaret when she left in early August, but he had been so busy preparing his apartment for a new lessee, packing up personal things to ship and to store, preparing his materials for new courses at a new university, the time had flown and he suddenly found himself driving through Pennsylvania the last week in August wondering where the month had gone. 

During his two day drive, he finally had time to think, think about Margaret, about what he wanted, what he hoped for. He was angry with himself, or embarrassed, he couldn’t decide which. Well, both actually. When she left in August, his initial feeling was relief, then anger, then … They had known for months that she would be leaving and it had made things awkward, at least partly because when she returned he would be gone. But when he thought about the separation, he kept flashing back to Katherine leaving him. Now Margaret was doing it too, but she had stretched out the leaving for months. 

When she’d finally gone, he felt abandoned, again, that he’d loved someone, like Katherine, like his father, who didn’t love him, who’d left him, taken his happiness, and he was alone again. And angry. That’s absolute rubbish, and you know it. You love her and you won’t tell her. And it’s not because she’s too young. You’re just scared she’ll say no … or are you scared she’ll say yes? You’ve been an idiot, again. He shook his head and sighed. But … a safe idiot? You time your stern talk to yourself when it’s too late to do anything. This ‘stop being afraid’ talk is a bit late, isn’t it?

He wanted to do well in Chicago, and knew that would take all of his time and concentration for some time, to fit in with his colleagues, to gain the trust, respect of his students, to continue his research and writing. He wanted his family to cope well without him, and hoped that email and phone calls would work.

Hannah and Belle knew from Fran that John had dated in Chicago. Jack’s younger daughter Christa, who was in her last year at university, had asked him out the first month he’d been there. He had begged off, saying he had too much to do, he was still settling into his new responsibilities, finding his way with a new job. But he had accepted a month later, attending a concert on campus with a late drink afterwards. They had dated again, but John had felt nothing more than friendship, and he was careful to make sure she knew that.

“No, I’m not dating Christa. She’s very nice, but that’s all. I’ve had dinner with a couple of colleagues, but that’s it, really. No, Aunt Belle, no romances in Chicago,” he smiled wryly. “Disappointed?”

“John, we just want you to be happy, so we’re only disappointed if you are,” Hannah said quietly. “Have you heard from Margaret?”

They saw the brief frown. “Actually, Margaret and I have exchanged emails regularly, but … ” John sighed. Their correspondence had been friendly, but that was all. As John read her emails, he thought they could have been written to anyone she knew at Mills, full of details of museum visits, lectures, concerts, Fred’s enthusiasm for his course. There was nothing just for John, for someone special. He was disappointed, but couldn’t blame her, not after the way he had left things in August. And exactly how special are your emails to her, after all? Full of your work, not what you want, what you miss, who you miss. John had called just twice, but each time Margaret had been out. He hadn’t heard her voice in almost four months.

“Email just isn’t enough, I know. Margaret’s looking forward to coming home. You must have gotten your invitation to the Christmas party, right? I can’t wait till they get back, I miss Margaret and Fred so much.” Fran smiled at John.

“Fran, you said you had photos that Fred sent. Show them to me?” he said. He noticed a little frown, but she went to fetch her laptop. The frown was explained as he scrolled through the latest photos, full of pictures of visits to various London landmarks on recent weekends. Most pictures of Margaret showed two young men with her, one of whom seemed to have eyes only for her. John looked up at Fran, raising his eyebrows in a question.

“Just some new friends she’s made, John. That’s Clive, and that’s his cousin Charles. Margaret says they’re very sweet,” Fran said. John just shook his head. She thinks that about all young men, and I guess they are where she is concerned. So, exactly how sweet have you been, Clive? 

“Remember, big brother, we don’t jump to conclusions where Margaret is concerned.” Fran put her hand on John’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze, smiling. They both sighed and went back to the dining room for pumpkin pie.


	39. Discussions and a Party

Home. Margaret stepped inside, took a deep breath and smiled. It had been empty for nearly five months, but soon enough they would be settled back in, and it would be filled with friends, friends she hadn’t seen in months. Margaret let out a contented sigh and turned back to help Fred and Uncle Adam with luggage and carry bags. They’d been traveling all day and she was tired, but she was excited at the same time. It was too late to call Fran or Edith or Keith, that would have to wait until tomorrow.

Margaret had said a temporary goodbye to Charles and Clive at dinner the day before. It had been a wonderful three months, spending time with them. And spending so much time with them, with Clive, with his growing feelings for her which he made no effort to hide, caused Margaret to examine her own feelings more carefully. She realized something about herself, and about any relationships she would have in the future. She was very grateful for that, as she was now certain of herself. No more confusion, no more doubt. She knew her own mind, her own feelings, and that brought her peace within herself, no matter what happened.

“Charles, I’m glad you’re going to be able to come to Mills with Clive. And please, you can both stay at my apartment. You’ll be much more comfortable there than at a hotel, and I don’t want you driving back to New York too late, on strange roads, so please, no more arguing.”

They had driven them to the airport and as Adam and Fred went to check their baggage, Clive kissed her goodbye. “Margaret, we’ll see you next week. Think about me, about us. I love you.” Margaret hugged him and walked away.

***

“Mrs Thornton, Mrs Sullivan, it’s so good to see you again.” Margaret stepped forward to embrace them both lightly. She had never done that before, but she felt more confident about them now. They liked her for her own sake, she was sure of it, and despite the rocky beginning with Hannah, she liked them as well.

It was the day after Christmas. They had just returned six days earlier, and Margaret and Fred had both been out tracking down friends they hadn’t seen for a while, making sure those who hadn’t responded had gotten their invitations to the holiday party this weekend. It had been a bit of a rush, unpacking, getting the house in order and decorated, but Margaret had been so delighted with it last year, Adam didn’t want to say they wouldn’t have time to prepare for a party this year, no matter how much else they had to do. The party would be two days after Christmas this year, so they’d had some extra time.

Fred had done all of the decorations outside, and once they’d brought a tree home four days ago, Margaret had spent hours doing the decorations inside. The house had gone from being empty for four and a half months to being warm and cheerful and welcoming. They had spent their holiday quietly, taking in a concert the night before in New York, and then spending the day at home, just talking to friends by telephone. The party invitations had gone by email in late November. All they needed to do was confirm delivery time with the caterer and they were ready.

“Margaret, you look well. I guess London agreed with you. Recovered from traveling yet?” Hannah said as they sat down for a light lunch. 

“Oh yes. I had a wonderful time. I have lots of pictures on my laptop and we sent quite a few to Fran, so I’m sure you’ve seen some of them. I’ve never seen so many people, so many different kinds of people, from so many countries, all in one place. But I was on my own a lot and I found I liked that, once I got used to it.”

“Did you make a lot of new friends?” Belle asked, thinking about some of the photos Fran had showed them.

Margaret blushed, knowing which pictures emailed by Fred probably sparked the most interest in this house. “Yes, I did. I met Clive and Charles in early October and saw them three or four times a week after that.” Margaret smiled at the raised eyebrows. “Well, yes, we did spend rather a lot of time together, but Charles and Clive haven’t been working these months. Clive had a health problem, and Charles took a break from school to help him. But he’s better now. And they both know a lot of people, so I got introduced all round. And I got to spend some time in country houses on weekends, with Clive’s family and friends. I even rode a horse, not hunting, but it was fun,” she said.

They talked for the next hour about what they all had been doing while Margaret was away: Fran’s classes, Edith’s breakup with David, Belle’s choral group, Hannah’s ESL students, London museums. Everything except the subject on everyone’s mind.

At last, Margaret took a deep breath and smiled at Hannah. “And how is John doing in Chicago, Mrs Thornton?”

***

“John!” Adam was just preparing to head for lunch when he was surprised to see John walking into the administration building. He had expected John to visit the campus after the weekend. “Welcome back, how are you? How is your family? Good holiday?”

“Adam, good to see you. Yes, everyone’s well, we had a nice quiet, family holiday.” He shook his head and laughed. “Is it too weird for a man my age to say he missed his mother and sister? I just got in early yesterday morning, late exams; thought I’d check to see if any old friends were still around. Looks as if almost everyone has already left. I, uh, stopped at your house, no one home,” he smiled, shrugging.

“Fred is practicing with Guy and Nick. Even after all this time away, not playing anywhere together, they got a job this weekend and for New Year’s Eve. Fred’s nervous, he feels he’s pretty rusty, so crash practice sessions. Margaret is at your mother’s, if I’m not mistaken.” Adam smiled at John’s look of surprise. “Oh, I think it was a last minute thing, she had some time before … well, Clive and Charles are coming this afternoon. They’ll be at the party tomorrow night, they’re staying at Margaret’s apartment for a couple of nights. I imagine you’ve heard about Clive and Charles,” he said, raising an eyebrow at John.

“Uh, yes, saw lots of pictures of them with Margaret, Fred sent them to Fran. Nice guys?” John said, keeping the question light.

“Yes, very.” Adam looked at John, frowning, then looked around, there was no one else there, but he didn’t want to be interrupted. “John, come outside with me, I just want to talk for a few minutes. You’re coming to the party tomorrow night, right?” John answered affirmatively as they walked out into a very mild December day.

Adam gestured to John to sit on a bench, then sat down next to him and turned. “John, this is almost certainly none of my business, but I’m going to say what I have to say anyway. I feel an enormous responsibility for Margaret, so if you think I’m butting in where I don’t belong, well, too bad. John, please think about what you want. Because I’ve seen things in the last five months.” Adam shook his head, sighing. “I’ve seen so many changes in Margaret, she’s grown up, she’s become confident in herself in a way that just wasn’t there before we left. She’s not the girl you remember.” 

“She and I talked last month about how she was feeling about herself, the way she was relating to other people. She beamed when I told her what I was observing. She said she knew it was happening, she felt a confidence in being on her own that she hadn’t felt at Mills - well, for lots of reasons, of course. Her parents’ deaths, the kidnapping, the accident, Fred and I were very protective, but she pretty much flew by herself once we settled in London and it did wonders for her.”

Adam thought of what Margaret told him, her feelings for John. I can’t tell him. He has to come to the decision himself, but, … . John saw a barely perceptible shake of Adam’s head. 

“John, I was in love with one woman for more than twenty years. The last ten of those years, I never saw her, not even once. Didn’t make a difference. I loved her, circumstances couldn’t change that, I couldn’t change that, and frankly, I didn’t want to. There was absolutely nothing I could have done that would have … brought Maria to me. If there had been, well, my life … ” He sighed deeply. “Doesn’t do any good to think that way.”

“Her daughter Margaret is a wonderful young woman. She was beautiful and smart when she came to us, but she had so much to learn and she knew that. I saw how young men responded to her innocence, how everyone wanted to help her, how some young men fell half in love with her. Well, she is still beautiful, she is still smart, but now she is confident, confident in who she is and what she wants. She doesn’t need help, and I see some young men respond to her even more now.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked at John and frowned. “John, what exactly do you think you are doing? Are you thinking? I’m speaking as a man who lost the only woman I ever loved, and I had absolutely no say in the matter. You have a say, if you want one. But I can see a time, not that far off, when it will be too late, if it isn’t already. I probably shouldn’t be saying anything, but I want Margaret to be happy. What do you want? Do you know?”

***

“Ann, Franco, how good to see you. How have you been? I understand congratulations are in order,“ John said as he hugged Ann. Franco beamed as they shook hands, and John gave him the bottle of wine he had brought. “Have you set a date?”

“Not yet, we’re still negotiating with my family as to which country will have the honor to host the event,” Franco said with a laugh. “But I hope soon enough that they won’t have time to make the biggest plans. You will come, of course, John. We will try to schedule when all of our friends at universities can make it.”

“So, tell me John, how is Chicago? Do you miss Mills, or have you settled into a new life, new friends, … ?” John knew exactly what Ann left off the end of the question. He had kept up email correspondence with her when he moved to Chicago, and knew that she emailed Margaret as well. She had found her love, and he knew she hoped the same for him.

“Chicago is good. I wouldn’t call it home yet, but I can see myself staying there, making it home. I miss it here, but things change.” He shrugged and sighed. “I know what you’re asking,” he said quietly. He watched Franco leave the room, giving the friends time to talk while he got some work done in his home office. 

“I know what I have to do, believe me. I have had countless evenings alone to realize just what I left behind when I went to Chicago without telling Margaret how I feel about her. I can visit, phone, email my mother and sister, friends, but that’s not enough with Margaret. I need her with me, Ann. I need her. I love her, and nothing else is important now, not until I tell her, show her that.” 

“About time,” Ann said, rolling her eyes at him and laughing.

“I just have had terrible timing as far as Margaret goes this week. I haven’t seen her and it doesn’t look as if I will until the party tomorrow night. You and Franco will be there, right?”

“Yes. We saw Margaret three days ago, outside her apartment building. She looked wonderful, full of enthusiasm, there was such a spark to her, um, … I guess it was the shyness, it was gone. Yes, I think that’s it. She was getting things ready for guests coming from London.” Ann saw John’s eyebrows go up in question and she smiled. “Yes, a couple of sweet young men, Margaret’s words. So, you know about them, hmm?”

John smiled ruefully. “Clive and Charles, oh yes, I know about them. I didn’t know they were coming here, or staying at her apartment. So, I assume they will be at the party. Great. Something to look forward to.”

***

As Margaret stood at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes searching, she suddenly caught her breath. John. Wow. He looks beautiful - handsome - whatever, he’s gorgeous, better than I remembered. He had his back to her, scanning the heads in the living room, looking for Margaret. She watched him, and held her breath as he turned and looked in her direction.

His breath caught and a smile lit up John’s face. Margaret. Wow. She does look different, the smile, the way she’s standing there. She’s gorgeous. John swallowed, and walked over to the steps. “Margaret, you look … very nice.” Way to go, John. You’ve barely breathed since you got here, looking for her, and now she looks very nice. 

“Margaret, there you are!” John groaned, didn’t this exact thing happen at last year’s party?, as a young man he recognized from photos came walking over to where Margaret was standing. He looked at John, and John thought he saw something, recognition of some kind, then the man turned to Margaret and hugged her closely. As he stepped back, he said, “Charles and I were hoping to find some photos of you as a child, but there don’t seem to be any. Charles is convinced you were a very funny looking little girl, so now we must conclude you’ve burned all of the photos showing you with crooked teeth and crossed eyes. Is that correct?” Clive took Margaret by the elbow and guided her into the library where Charles was waiting.

John stayed outside the room and watched them, watched the animation in Margaret’s face as she talked to them, watched the look on his face as Clive gazed at her, his hands as they held hers, his body as he stood so close. John’s chest tightened, and he realized he was holding his breath. He turned and walked down the hall to the music room, which seemed to be the only place in the house he could go to be alone right now. His heart was hammering. Is it too late? Has my hesitation ruined whatever chance I had to have the woman I know I want, to have the life I want? Is it too late?… Calm down, calm down. You haven’t even spoken to her yet. Things have changed, you’ve changed. You’re ready now. But has she changed, is she ready for the same thing?

John heard a noise, someone clearing his throat, and he turned to see Clive just a few feet away, smiling at him, and closing the door behind him. “You must be John. I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” Clive said, looking rather appraisingly at the man standing before him. Clive was surprised to realize they were remarkably similar looking, both over six feet tall, dark hair, blue eyes, slender. Clive smiled, remembering meeting Guy the day before. Margaret’s taste in men is a bit specific. Lucky for us.

Clive and Charles had spent the day before with Margaret. They toured Mills, and then she took them to her apartment, where she had invited them to stay until they went back to New York in two days. They’d teased her about staying longer when they saw the apartment, particularly her shower and flat screen television. Fred, Fran, Guy and Davina had joined them for dinner at the apartment. Margaret had apologized for ordering in, not having stocked the kitchen in the apartment for meals since she’d returned, and Clive had teased her about her cooking.

“No, really, I do know how to cook. But we’ve been so busy since we got home,” Margaret said. “I haven’t had time to … ”

Charles laughed. “Margaret, please. Clive has talked about nothing but you since you left last week. He probably isn’t even tasting the food, it’s the company that counts.” Margaret had blushed, as had Clive.

“And you must be Clive. I haven’t heard much about you at all.” John smiled, but the smile barely moved his lips, not reaching his eyes. “I’m surprised to see you here. You live in London, don’t you?” John stopped. Surprised was hardly the word. What is he doing here? Why isn’t he home with his own family during the holidays? Why has he followed Margaret? Well, the why seems obvious, but … 

“Well, my parents wanted to come to New York. Their only grandchild lives here, so we all came to spend the holidays with my sister and her family. And there was no way I would miss seeing Margaret, and Fred and Mr Bell, of course.”

“Of course,” John said.

“You don’t live here either, do you? Chicago, right? Planning on staying out there? Because frankly, John, I don’t believe long distance relationships work out very well, do you?” Clive smiled slyly and sat down on the couch. “Me, I’ve been thinking lately about where I should live. My father has a partner branch in New York City. He thinks it might be a good idea for me to work here for a while, get to know the law on this side, get some experience here.” He smiled at John and raised his eyebrows. “What do you think? Good idea?”

John just stared at him, his lips pressed together in a thin line. What does this guy think he’s up to, baiting me about being close to Margaret? How is where I live any of his business? John looked carefully at Clive. Unless, unless Margaret has told him she plans to stay here, with Fred and Adam, indefinitely. Near New York.

John cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m in Chicago now, probably for at least the next four or five years. But there are planes, phone, email. I keep in touch with family, friends.” John frowned as he saw Clive roll his eyes and shake his head. “What? They don’t have the internet where you are, Clive? No phones?”

“Why don’t we stop talking around the subject here, John? We’re talking about Margaret, we both know it. What are your intentions?” 

“How could that possibly be any of your business? Why should I talk about Margaret with you? I don’t even know you,” John replied, scowling at Clive and shifting uncomfortably. 

They stared at each other for what seemed an interminable time to John. I won’t give him the satisfaction of leaving. Let him say what he wants.

Finally, Clive sighed. He walked over to stand in front of John, held out his hand and said, “You’re right, John. You don’t know me. Let me introduce myself. I’m Clive Benson, the man who asked Margaret to marry him.”


	40. A Snowy Night

“I asked Margaret to marry me,” Clive repeated.

He had seen John flinch and heard the indrawn breath. John turned away from him, staring out the window without seeing anything. Marry him? Adam tried to tell me. … Oh, no, they’re going to announce it tonight, their engagement. Neither spoke, and the silence grew. Finally John took a deep breath and turned back.

“I heard you the first time, Clive. Why are you telling me? If you’re waiting for me to congratulate you … ” John asked, biting off the last.

Clive shook his head slowly. “I knew what the answer would be, of course, but I had to ask.” He saw the scowl, and laughed, humorlessly. “John, she said no. I knew she would. But I couldn’t help … I hoped I could persuade her to see me as the right man. I would do anything to make her happy. I love her, but …’ He sighed heavily. 

“She’s in love with you. I’ve known it since the day she first said your name.” Clive stopped, watching initial shock turn into a surprised smile that John fought but failed to keep from lighting up his entire face.

“How could you not know that?” Clive asked incredulously. “Margaret is so honest, so straight forward. She told me about you, your family, your new job. She’s proud of you, she admires you so much. And she loves you.” 

Clive spread his heads in a helpless gesture. “And the thing is, I think she loves me too, but not, not in the same way. If you weren’t here, I think it could work for us, but … ” Clive sighed again. 

“John, do you love her? Because if you don’t, you’ve got to tell her, let her get on with her life. And if you do, then what the … what the hell are you doing?” Clive said with vehemence in his voice. “She doesn’t deserve this, this uncertainty. She deserves to be happy, to be loved. Unfortunately for me, she wants that from you. What I want doesn’t count, not here.”

She loves me. John thought back to each of his conversations over the past two days, particularly the one with Adam. Adam hadn’t exactly been subtle. He hadn’t said what he probably knew about Margaret’s feelings, but he had definitely been telling John that he couldn’t wait forever, couldn’t play his Hamlet act any longer. No, Margaret doesn’t deserve uncertainty, but I’m not uncertain, not any more. Thank god she wants me, not him. She loves me!

John shook his head, looking at Clive, but not seeing him as he tried to think when he could talk to Margaret privately. I’ve been waiting three days to talk to her and I’ve managed to say just five words to her. I’ve got to talk to her, but … where? He’s in her apartment, I’ve got a tenant in mine. … Not my mother’s house, oh no. Clive had been watching quietly and John suddenly looked at him, actually seeing him.

“No, Clive, you’re right, Margaret doesn’t deserve uncertainty. But I’m not uncertain. I haven’t been uncertain for a very long time, but it’s just not something you put in an email or say over the phone for the first time, at least I couldn’t. Your timing tonight was perfect,” he said wryly. “This is the first time I’ve seen Margaret in five months, and I had just said hello to her when you took her away, and,” he laughed, “there is nowhere I can talk to her where we won’t be interrupted.”

He looked sharply at Clive. “Thank you, for telling me what you did. You didn’t have to. And I am sorry, but only a little bit,” he said with a chuckle, “that you’ve been disappointed. When are you leaving?”

John smiled when he saw the startled look on Clive’s face. “No, no. I mean, I’m sure Margaret will want to spend time with you as long as you’re here, and I need some time with her myself. I know you’re staying in her apartment. So, are you here for several days?”

“No, Charles and I are scheduled to go back to New York tomorrow before lunch. I was hoping to come back before we leave for home, but I don’t know. That depends on Margaret,” he said, one side of his mouth quirking up, “and perhaps on you, John.”

***

John went back into the living room, and spent some time chatting with Ann and Franco while watching Margaret talk to other guests. He narrowed his eyes, there’s something about her, something different. Still gorgeous, no question about that. John let his eyes drift from her face all the way down and back. Oh, yes, still gorgeous. But Ann was right, the shyness seems to be gone. She seems so confident, so at ease with everyone who talks to her, at ease with herself. 

“Have you spoken to her yet?” Ann asked, seeing where John’s eyes were fixed. 

“Not yet, but I did have a very interesting talk with Clive,” he said. “I’ll tell you about it some time, but right now, I think I need to get Margaret alone long enough to ask her out tomorrow night.” John smiled at Ann, and walked over to where Margaret was standing with Charles.

“Margaret, found you almost alone at last. Please, can you come into the music room with me for a minute. I need to talk to you.” Margaret had been talking quietly with Charles, and Charles smiled and excused himself, leaving them alone.

John walked with her to the music room, ushering her in and turning to close the door. When he turned around, he saw an amused smile on her face. “What? I wanted to talk to you privately and there are so many people vying for your attention, we have to hide, just a little bit.”

“John, I’m so glad you came tonight.” Margaret smiled at him. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Margaret, I’d like to see you tomorrow night. I’ve been trying to see you ever since I got back, but it seems you’ve been way too busy for me. But I know that Clive and Charles are leaving tomorrow morning, so I hope whatever you have scheduled tomorrow night can be postponed, because I’m not sure I can wait any longer.” 

As he talked, John had slowly moved closer, so that when he stopped speaking, he was standing right in front of her, close enough that he could easily reach up and touch her face lightly as he leaned in and brushed her lips ever so lightly with his. He pulled back to see a smile on her lips, and she looked directly at him.

“Fran and Fred and Keith and I had talked about going to a movie tomorrow night,” she said, quickly holding up her hand as John started to protest, “but the plans were still tentative. Keith will be here later. I’ll tell him we’ll postpone to another night, okay?”

“Good. Thank you. And, well,” John gave an embarrassed little laugh, “I have a tenant in my apartment. I was hoping we could go out to dinner, then spend some time together in your apartment, as your guests will be gone. What do you think?”

She smiled broadly. “I think that can be arranged, John.” They stood quietly for a moment, smiling at each other as they found their hands folding together.

“Oh, right. I have something for you, Margaret. I’ve had it quite some time, waiting for the right time to give it to you. Please open it tonight when you’re alone,” he said as he handed her a small box. Just then Fred came into the room, announcing that the group singing was about to begin, and that was the last moment the two of them spent alone.

‘I didn’t get to spend enough time with you tonight,” John said as he was leaving the party an hour later, “and I’m really looking forward to tomorrow night having you all to myself. Sleep well. I’ll pick you up at 7:00,” he said, and leaned down and kissed her carefully. John saw Clive watching them, and he nodded to him as he left.

***

John looked in the mirror. He had decided to wear all black again, remembering how much Margaret had liked the way he looked in it. He had lost a few pounds, missing the home cooked meals he got at his mother’s, the meals he shared with Margaret and her family, but he was still quite fit, and the clothes didn’t exactly hang on him. He’d shaved very carefully, as he planned to be close to Margaret for quite some time tonight.

It was almost exactly a year since their first date. And it was snowing as he drove to Adam’s house, as it had done that night. John smiled. Another overnight date? How perfect would that be? Better let Margaret lead on that one, but god, I’m ready. He knocked on the door and greeted Adam as it opened. 

“John,” she called from the stairs, “I hope we’re going to walk in the snow.” 

Margaret walked down the stairs and John grinned from ear to ear. She looked beautiful and she was wearing the gift he had left with her the night before. Margaret had on black silk pants, her ruffled white shirt with the vee at the neck, and she was wearing the necklace John had bought at Monument Valley. The liquid silver chain shimmered in the light, and the silver and orange pendant seemed to glow against her throat. 

“Margaret,” John breathed, his eyes sweeping over her. She smiled and, sliding her arms around his neck, stepped into his arms. John took a deep breath and nearly groaned out loud at the pleasure of feeling her body against his. Adam. Adam’s right here. “Margaret,” he said as he stepped back, “you look wonderful. And yes, we’ll walk in the snow tonight.”

***

“Tell me about Clive, Margaret.” John reached across the table and threaded his fingers with hers, remembering being in this restaurant on their first date and asking about her kissing Guy. Deja vú all over again.

As she felt the warmth from John’s hand and from his smile, Margaret’s thoughts turned to Clive and a conversation she’d had with Uncle Adam two weeks earlier.

“Margaret, is something wrong? You seem a little sad. Want to talk about it?” Adam was surprised. They had been in England for more than four months and Margaret had been the happiest he’d ever seen her. Her confidence in herself had soared as she learned to depend on herself, to trust her own judgment, to make her way. He didn’t regret the protective shield he and Fred and Fred’s friends had surrounded her with. It had been necessary when she first came to them and for some time after. But the need had diminished to the point that the protective instinct he felt for her was now the same as he felt for Fred, for both his children.

“There’s nothing really wrong, but … ,” Margaret hesitated, shaking her head and then she sighed. “Clive asked me to marry him.” 

Adam wasn’t surprised at all, he had seen the way Clive looked at Margaret, the way he talked to her, treated her. And of course, the fact that Clive had asked to speak to him privately a month earlier, to assure him of his regard for Margaret, his honorable intentions, that Margaret was absolutely safe with him and Charles, had been quite the clue.

“And why would that make you sad?” he asked quietly.

“Because I had to say no, and Clive was sad. I love him, I do, but not … ” She sighed again and he waited. “I love John. I’ve known it for some time, but became sure of it within the last few months. I don’t know if he loves me, if he has ever really gotten over Katherine.” Margaret saw Adam raise his eyebrows in question, and she told him about John’s terrible disappointment, loving someone who didn’t love him in return, and how it had affected their own relationship when they first started dating.

“I don’t know if he loves me, or if he can love me, ever. But I think, as long as I love him, it doesn’t matter. Because there isn’t anything I can do about it. I’ll love him until I don’t anymore, and maybe I’ll never stop, even if he never loves me back. Does that make sense at all?” She looked up at Adam, searching his face to see if he understood, if he recognized any little bit of himself in what she was trying to say. She had given this a lot of thought, had thought about her mother and Adam, about John and Katherine and her fear that John hadn’t gotten over Katherine.

Adam smiled. “Yes, Margaret, it makes sense to me. You know how I felt about your mother. It was my misfortune that she met your father before me. It never changed how I felt about her, the fact that we were separated made no difference to my feelings, I never stopped loving her. So, I do understand when you say if John doesn’t feel the same for you, it wouldn’t change how you feel.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. 

“But, Margaret, I think there is a difference here you should remember. I knew all along that your mother loved me, had loved me, so perhaps that’s different from you and John. If John doesn’t love you, that doesn’t mean you can’t … that you’ll never love someone else, does it? Perhaps even Clive, in the way he loves you?”

“I really don’t know. I don’t … ” she sighed heavily. “Anyway, I know what I want, now he has to know what he wants. I hope he wants me,” she said with a smile. “If he does, everything else, Chicago, our separation, will sort itself out. And if he doesn’t want me, well, perhaps my feelings will change in time.”

Margaret raised her eyebrows slightly, looking across the table at John as she considered what she should say in answer to his question. “Clive. Well, Clive lives in London, is twenty three, has his law degree from Oxford, one older sister named Lavinia. Charles is his cousin.” She stopped, seeing John frowning. “You want to know other things, don’t you?”

“I’d like to know about you and Clive, if you want to tell me,” he said.

“I met Clive one afternoon at the Tate Modern, and we’ve been friends ever since. The first friend I made in London. It was … good to meet someone who didn’t know about me, the way I grew up, the things that had happened to me. I was just a normal person to him, not some damaged child, someone you had to be careful with. It was different, because I had to be careful with him.” 

She saw John raise his eyebrows. “Clive couldn’t see when we first met. A tumor, then surgery once the medication had time to work. And he’s fine now, but it was different for me, it was good, having someone depend on me for a change. Anyway, he and Charles are very close, and I went everywhere with them for months. We’re all very good friends.” 

She stopped and looked at their hands still clasped together, then up at John’s face, and smiled at him. “I love Clive.” She bit her lower lip, waiting to see how John would react to that statement, if at all. She didn’t say it to provoke him, it was simply a statement of fact, a fact she wanted him to know. And as he smiled and squeezed her hands, relief flooded through her. He understands, it’s okay.

***

It was still snowing as they walked side by side back to Margaret’s apartment an hour later, with John’s arm around Margaret’s waist, guarding against her slipping. When they got inside, Margaret got a towel for John to get the snowflakes and melted snow out of his hair. He insisted she do it for him. “My arms are way too tired from holding you up all the way back here,” he joked. Margaret laughed and stepped close, running the towel over his head several times before he pulled her into his lap.

He buried his face in her hair and took a deep breath. When he pulled back, he smiled. “I’ve missed you so much these past few months,” he said quietly, then leaned in and kissed her ever so lightly. As he pulled back, he saw her smile.

“I missed you too, John,” she said, leaning in for another kiss, and another, and another.

As they sat on the couch later, Margaret pressed against his side, both of his arms keeping her close, they talked about all the things they hadn’t been able to share the past five months. The museums Margaret had loved, the plays, the concerts, new friends. John talked about his classes, new friends in Chicago, his opportunities so far away, the fact that he could see that he would be staying in Chicago for some time to come.

“I don’t know, maybe I thought, well, it won’t work out and I’ll come back to Mills saying I gave it a try. I spent so many years here, it was familiar, family was here, how great could Chicago be, after all? But I hadn’t counted on falling in love with the challenges at Chicago.” He snorted. “It hasn’t been easy, being the new guy, again, not knowing anyone but Jack, coming home to an empty apartment every night, not seeing family, friends … ” He trailed off as he looked at Margaret. 

“Not being able to see you was the worst of it. Thinking about you so far away, experiencing so many new things, things I wasn’t able to share. Meeting new people. When I was home for Thanksgiving, I saw the photos Fred had emailed Fran and it made me miss you even more, which I hadn’t thought possible.”

“Margaret, Clive talked to me last night, in private. He told me he asked you to marry him,” John said quietly. 

Margaret moved away enough to look at him directly. “Then he must have told you that I said no,” she said. John nodded his head yes as he saw her frown. “I love Clive, but not the way he wants me to. I was sorry to disappoint him.”

John pulled her back against him, breathing deeply, his cheek against her hair. “You don’t know how scared I was when he told me, thinking I’d lost you, lost what I wanted to have with you. I never told you the things I wanted to say before you left. I … ” John’s arms tightened around her briefly, then he sat up, holding her at arms’ length, looking intently at her. 

“Margaret, I love you. I’ve loved you for so long and am so sorry I didn’t tell you before. Can you forgive me?”

“I love you, John, and there’s nothing to forgive.”

***

John awoke, wondering why the bedroom was so sunny this early in the morning. As he opened his eyes and looked around, he grinned. Because you’re not in your own bedroom, you lucky man. John looked at her, sleeping on her stomach inches away from him. Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. And she loves you. Last night was wonderful, she was wonderful … 

Margaret had led him into her bedroom holding one hand while unbuttoning his shirt with the other, laughing at his surprise, telling him she had waited a long time for them to be ready for each other and she wasn’t going to wait any longer. She had been equal parts shy, eager, wondering and passionate as they explored each other. They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms hours later, happily tired.

John reached out a hand and gently stroked her bare shoulder with one finger. Margaret opened her eyes slowly, and smiled as she looked up at John. “Morning,” she said sleepily.

“Morning, Margaret. Last night was wonderful. I love you,” he said for about the tenth time since dinner last night, a wide grin on his face.

She smiled and moved closer to him, putting her head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly as she snuggled to him.

“Will you marry me?” he asked as he leaned in to kiss her.

“Yes, John, I will,” she whispered, closing her eyes as their lips met.

THE END


End file.
